best friend

a little distance
feels like it's time to start writing these ones down...

he was my "doué buddy"
("gifted" in french, "dove" in the misprinted high school yearbook)
once every week they took a bunch of us from our respective schools
and sent us down the highway in a taxi
to another school
where we would explore the contents of our exceptional minds
by writing children's books
and watching the space shuttle explode on TV

beautiful, athletic, popular, smart, funny
adopted, damaged
the perfect asshole gentleman
by fifteen he knew what it was to stare deep into the void
leather jacket, james dean in the rain

he dated the girl next door
but he loved me more than anyone else
dead poets society will always be about the night his hand slipped between my thighs in the darkened theatre
and how i made him stop

from then on he threatened anyone who tried to touch me
while continuing to date the wrong girl
one day i moved on
and despite his promises
he disappeared

skip forward thirteen months or so
an unexpected surprise (i suppose that's redundant)
an invitation
an apology
a renewal
looking back
a gift of an ancient wisdom
and an awkward intimacy

to see him happy, and at his request
i set him up with my friend, the girl across his street
beautiful, popular, talented
perfect
i cried alone

one crazy night he broke his leg on snake mountain
eighteen, and still staring into the black
he returned to me
flashback
point break will always be about the night he kissed the back of my neck
while his hand slipped between my thighs in my darkened living room
a snowy and treacherous night for driving in the country
handicapped
he somehow took my offer of a bed as a betrayal of our friendship
i tried desperately to understand
i never did

skip forward to the outset of my own demise
i walked past a fading version of him and the still-perfect girl in a shopping mall
we locked eyes
and pretended not to see
i rode the escalator straight up into the fancy chocolate store
i abused my credit card
and then i went home and wept alone

he disappeared again into his own deep, thrashing ocean
skip forward thirteen years or so
gossip with an old mutual friend...
rumours of how his life had spiraled into a mess
of crystal meth, cocaine, and gay porn
i found a photo of him online, long since removed
a casting agent's gallery of photos of potential extras
bloated, haggard, scarred
but somehow still beautiful
i looked into his eyes
and all i could see was the abyss
i no longer cry over him
but i do wonder if he's still here
no longer any trace
i wonder how i will know when (if?) he has gone from this world