Right On Time Four Years Late

Wrapping my arms around my chest to both warm and comfort myself, I felt the lump in my throat starting to form. And then swell. I just left a voicemail on my only real friend in San Francisco's voicemail. And I realized I had no one else to call. With those 3000 miles bulldozing over me, I sat waiting for the bus at 16th and Mission. On a Tuesday night at 9:00 PM, trying to swallow the overwhelming emptiness that his recent departure was leaving behind.

I did NOT plan it this way. His visit was not supposed to induce tears.

He showed up on my doorstep Sunday morning. With a single backpack and whiskers at least a half inch long. We had an incredible three days. The kinds of days that make you remember why you fell in love with him. His goofy smile. The look on his face and the dilation of his pupils when he gets excited. The way he sleeps. And laughs at himself. And the way he always bites his tongue and sticks it out of the right corner of his mouth when he concentrates. His sweet yet awkward interactions with others. You remember why he was just what you needed back then.

I am sitting at the bus stop remembering the flowers. And the Zazu's. The first time we held hands during that car ride with JRW asleep in the back seat. The red Gatorade that was all over his face when I couldn't muster the courage to invite him to Formal. And the email over Christmas break that pretty much changed everything.

I begin to feel sick as I also remember that fight. All the fights, actually. The shouting and tears. The uneasiness and borderline misery the relationship added to my personality. The fights aren't making sense, though. And how we ever DIDN'T get along feels foreign. Three full days and two nights of smooth sailing intermittently mixed with new adventures and nostalgia have invoked a touch of anguish. Because he has finally grown up. His immaturity has evolved into something more child-like than child-ish. He is kind and endearing.

He doesn't complain like he used to complain. Incessantly and about nothing. And I'm no longer neurotic and sensitive to it like I was four years ago. He articulated what he was thinking instead of making me guess. I planned a great tour of SF and when it all didn't work out we both calmly shrugged. I didn't apologize. And he didn't ferociously grit, "DAMN IT! GOD DAMN IT!" We turned to something else and kept going.

I continued to wait for the bus. But I fought frustration and sadness. Clarity overtook my emptiness as I realized It is kind of hard to miss what never really was. Four years late and yet right on time, I finally accepted that for me and JBB, nothing is better than something.

Eventually, I boarded the bus back to Nob Hill. It was probably right around the same time he boarded a plane to Australia. Finally. Just like he used to threaten all those years. And by now, he's already a sixth of the way there. I hope he is so excited he can't stop bouncing his knee.

I am so happy for him I am smiling through my tears.