Thursday, February 5, 2009

Leaving

I love to visit. But most of all I hate to leave. I recently took a road trip and visited some friends I hadn't seen in a long time. One I hadn't seen in 14 years. She got married and has 3 awesome kids. I was only coming in for the night. 14 hours. When I arrived (later than I thought I would've been there) she had soup on and a cold beer waiting. It was like no time had passed and I had just seen her last week. We caught up for a moment, talked about old friends and then headed down to Tootsie's in downtown Nashville. It was a Monday and it was packed wall to wall. Two bands played, separated by a wall and a set of stairs. We found a table at the top of the stairs so we could hear the mash-up of both bands as we yelled at each other across the table. The thing I love about M is that even though we haven't seen each other in years, we can catch each other up on our lives fairly quickly and then talk about relevant things going on in our lives. We don't spend the entire time reliving the past. I can tell her stories about travel and she can tell me stories about how cool of a mom she is but then we just sit and talk. And not small talk either. I've always had that connection with her. It was funny to hear her say that she never really let anybody get close to her while at college. I considered her a close friend back then and so it was weird to think that she felt that way. One of my favorite memories in college (and of all time) is waking up at dawn and having a coffee on the deck of her cabin in Helen, Georgia, watching the mist rise up in the Rhododendron forest. It is possibly one of the most peaceful times in my life and I was able to share that with friends I held dear to me .
I drove out of Nashvegas with a can of coffee ("Friends don't let friends drink bad coffee") and a Nashvegas Gothic magnet in hand. I drove away, both sad and happy. I wish I hadn't let so much time come between us. 
I drove in the rain, going to see my dear friend, F, in Little Rock. The rain started to come down about 2 hours outside of the city. Traffic, rain and an accident left me two hours behind schedule. I couldn't remember the last time I saw F. He and HPF had a baby boy, Rome, 11 months ago. I felt like a horrible friend not coming to see them sooner. When I showed up to Vino's, the boys were halfway to two sheets to the wind. I will always remember the smile on his face when I walked in the door. He was so excited for me to meet his boy that was named after a great woman. He was about to burst with excitement, so much so that his eyes started to tear up. It was what he had been waiting for his whole life. But there was IPA to drink first. Every time we've gotten together in the past has been an epic hike or a week spent at the cabin or a week on the Little Red, fishing for trout and drinking more beer than we should. This time was different. We stood on the back deck and as I watched him smoke his cigarette, I downed my third beer and thought to myself, 'why do I feel that I've been a horrible friend?' He would never admit that I had been and if I did say that to him, he'd shrug it off but I felt that I've been very distant and selfish for a long time now. But as a best friend does, he says it's no big deal and enjoys the time we have right now. We drink another pitcher at my insistence and then head to another bar. We walk in and a song from our past is playing. "Change" by Blind Melon. It's the anthem to our group of friends. Anybody who's ever spent time at Mic's place knows it by heart. My eyes get watery and my breath is taken away. I love times like these. Drunk with memories as if they were a dream. The kid that played the song couldn't get over the fact that we actually knew the song and were so blown away that it was playing. He thought we were fucking with him and insisted that we were until we looked him square in the eyes and said, you have no idea how much this song means to us. I felt like one of those old men, sitting on a porch, telling stories to kids that were just finding their way. We sang at the top of our lungs to the five or so people in the bar. We finished our Guinness and against better judgement, drove home. 
We stumbled in the house and made our way upstairs. We snuck not so quietly into Rome's bedroom to see him. F touched his head and he immediately woke up crying. We left the room and let him fall quickly back to sleep. I was glad that's how I first met him. It will make for a great story when he gets older. We wouldn't..... couldn't have it any other way. 
I spent five days with the family. It was a nice change of pace. I watched Rome as he discovered new things and smiled at just about everything. I watched as his proud Papa held him dearly. I can tell he wants to tell him so much right now. He'll have to wait. But F tells him anyway. He'll tell him again and again over the years. Our stories are what makes us who we are. It's all we have really. 
My story is that I found that I need to be a better friend. That I need to keep in touch better and let myself be open and honest with the people close to my heart. I don't want to miss out on the happiness of my friends and the joys that occur in their lives. 
As I drove out of the driveway and headed into the Western sun, my heart filled with sadness. I hate being so far away from the friends that mean the most to me. I've never connected with anybody the way I did with the people that came into my life in my college days or in my early 20's. It's my own fault really. I was holding on to the past. I didn't let anybody get close. And I didn't think I could find friends like that again. Maybe I thought it was going to be too much emotional investment. And in the meantime, I've distanced myself from those people that are close to me. So, I'm ok with leaving now. Because I know that I'll come back sooner rather than later.