Had a friend, she once told me,
‘you got a friend, you ain’t lonely,’
Now she’s gone and left me only
Looking for what I knew.
He had been gone for the summer vacation after I graduated. The previous year had been such a whirlwind at times; we met, we dated, we made out, did our thing. Much to the chagrin of many of our mutual friends, we did all of these things regardless of our surroundings. Anyone doing anything after school? Sounds lame, but sure, we’ll hang out. You attend to your lameness, and we’ll attend to the gettin’ down. No, no, we don’t need any soda. We’ll be comfortable over here on this couch. Enjoy your game of Magic: The Gathering.
We were cruising around in my 1985 Chevrolet Cavalier, its hideous tan paint matched in sexiness only by the equal amount of spray paint covered rust surrounding the entire body. Pieces were held together by dozens upon dozens of stickers. Sure, it was a little noisy and it looked like hell, but it got us from point A to B and beyond. At the moment, it was dropping off my first love after a less-than-spectacular day after our reuniting in the fall.
Over the summer, he had left town to visit his father and do some work for him. This left me pining for the majority of the vacation; we didn’t really exchange phone calls or anything, and I thought this was normal as could be since I grew up poor and never regularly blew hard-earned cash on long distance. At some point, we did plan a visit, however; myself and several of our mutual high school friends made the approximately 110 mile trip in my beast on wheels to hang out for a day. Not a moment of it sticks in my mind to this day.
But before that, oh, how the school year had fluttered for us. Our geek clique met in British Literature — seven broken individuals from the Land of Misfit Teenagers — and refused to separate even though half of the group graduated at the end of the year. A friend of mine liked him, but I pursued him harder. It was actually a misunderstanding that led to us dating, but we quickly made up for any of that nonsense with a giant pile of teenage hormonal lust.
If there are any greater constants in this universe, it’s that geeks stick together like only geeks can do. Neither one of us had automobiles, but some of the others did; we attended every possible social gathering so that we could be together. Occasionally, a parental unit or two would ship us around, but neither one of us were from wealthy stock or expected that those who had sprung us from their loins would personally cart us to and from our lovefests. Instead, we enjoyed yet used our friends with ulterior motives; sure, we’ll play a few games of cards, but then you must leave us to that dark corner for a while. Yes, let’s whip out the D10s, but don’t watch what’s going on under the table.
Back in the vehicle, climbing a monstrous hill with a four-cylinder 2.0 liter engine, Led Zeppelin’s III blasted from my illuminated tape deck. I was returning the boy home after a reunited evening with friends. No, it hadn’t been like it was only a few short months before. There was no conversation to be had, and all that stuck out in the evening were lyrics that were resonating through my head with the power of a hammer on an anvil.
When he had first returned after his summer away, we had attempted to go back to the way things were before. It should have been easier, given that I now had transportation for us both. Unfortunately, I didn’t know was everything that had gone on while he was away. Even more unfortunately, I didn’t know everything that was currently going on between him and one of my good friends locally. I ran around puzzled for weeks, pleading with my friends to help me understand why things had changed so much in such a short period of time. I bathed my mind in Liz Phair while attempting to be civil.
It’s harder to be friends than lovers
And you shouldn’t try to mix the two
‘Cause if you do it and you’re still unhappy
Then you know that the problem is you
But I had discovered eventually the crush that he had on my good friend. At least, that’s what I was told was going on. It was nearly a year until I knew half of the story, and several years before I found out every last detail. Needless to say, just knowing that your first love who you still care for dearly was pining for one of your friends was hard enough. Having the strength to break it off and allow them to be together? That was another challenge altogether.
And so I was driving him home, inundating him with some of the most unintentionally guilt-trippy lyrics that could have possibly hit my tape deck. I knew after that day that I couldn’t just sit there, watching the two of them be together as I sat on the sidelines. Even though I had technically been the dumper and not the dumpee, I had only done the deed because it was necessary, even though it killed me inside. Who would I be to try and stand in the way of two young people who wanted to be together, just because I happened to be there first? And why had he tried to stop me from doing it? Why didn’t he end things if he knew he wanted to be with someone else? Everything is easily answered with a Jerry Springer sensibility, I suppose, but my upbringing was slightly more zen than tabloid.
This was it. We wouldn’t see each other for a few years later, when I eventually made peace with my friend once again shortly before he dumped her. I can’t say that I wasn’t absolutely overjoyed when he broke the conniving bitch’s heart, and I certainly wasn’t upset when I had later heard that the “new” love of his life had run off amidst a coke binge or some other nonsense. All of the wrongs had been righted through the wonders of karmic retribution.
I remember dropping him off at his door as the sounds resonated through the air, the lyrics to “Friends” feeling all too bittersweet as he finally seemed to realize what he had thrown away. He never said as much. Hell, he never once looked me in the eye after that day. He knew that I had never been anything other than at his side, yet he couldn’t have the common courtesy to tell me the truth, to give me some sort of closure, or hell, even just to be a friend.
So anytime somebody needs you,
Don’t let them down, altho’ it grieves you,
Some day you’ll need someone like they do,
Looking for what you knew.
Today, he’s gone on to make a good life for himself, away from this town and its drama. Somewhere along the line, he figured it all out. Maybe it was when I showed up at his door a year after our breakup with some books I had borrowed from him and forgotten to return. Maybe he just turned the Zep back on again one day and remembered that horrible drive in my obnoxious car. More than likely, it had little or nothing to do with me, but I’m still going to take credit for planting the seed.
Strongly withstanding the urge to use the word “treasure,”
–gloomchen
