I wrote the other week how I had parted with a friend. We had some discussions after, but left it at that. I think we both still feel some affection for the other, but I’ve felt content with the decision. There is regret, but acceptance too, and in the end our parting was more amicable than it started.
Then last night I had a dream. For some reason I was staying in a boarding house that doubled as a library. My bed was among the bookshelves. I woke to find my friend bending over me with a smile on his face. It was such a familiar, true to life smile that I smiled back. He was dressed for some reason in a dark, pinstriped suit and a fedora, like someone from a 1940’s detective movie. He looked very dapper.
In a way the circumstances of the dream reflected our situation. I was in a boarding house because that’s all I could afford. The rows of books perhaps were reference to my desire to write. And I woke and looked at him knowing that we had parted as friends.
Seeing him there smiling at me changed everything. As soon as I saw him I knew that everything was good again. I was relieved. He had come by on his way to the airport to see me. It had been on his mind too, and at the last-minute he had done something. That’s the friend I miss.
We sat and talked on my bed while the middle-aged landlady came by with bottles of Mexican pop to drink, and that’s how it ended.
What I do about it is a different story.