We became friends first… but we were in love since the very beginning. Most people don’t know that about Jess and I. Our friendship served as an unbreakable foundation for a towering relationship, the spire of which has poked through Celestial skies. When I look back upon our relationship I smile at our playful innocence with a deep sense of pride. Jess and I behaved like two childhood friends playing grownup in a pretend treehouse with a “No Gwonups Allowed” sign dangling from our shared disposition. And we kept up playing for over a decade, which adds up to a rather impressive collection of memories. At times I find myself navigating through this entangled web of recollections like some sort of mental labyrinth.
Weaving bicycle handlebars in unison as we painted our one-way street with invisible figure eights and singing made-up lullabies while dusk falls over the neighborhood. Speedy steps, panting breath and extended fingers thrusting outwards as we chase one another through relentless giggles and bustling parks. Tiptoeing up creaky steps on all fours like a devolved creature, guarded breath and a pulsating heart as I patiently wait with delight for the perfect opportunity to pounce upon my oblivious spouse, “Joey??? Is that you??” Breaking up beachside parties with unfettered frisbees then joining our newly made accomplices in a bit of lakeshore revelry. Food fights, wine fights, snow fights, water-balloon fights, whipped cream fights, fight fights (boyyy we had some good ones), garden hose fights, ocean fights, rain fights, and shower fights… my favorite of the lot;) Belly-up’d barside, reliving embarrassing tales through joyous gazes and sore dimples as the muffled background noise mimics eternal wavebreak. Wrestling two tiny pups over uncut grass, our breath reminiscent of olives, cheese and iced tea… just before our furry family indulges in a midday’s picnic nap. Sunday morning tickling competitions concluded with a triumphant “Man overboard!” She claps between cheers and boisterous cackles as my body thuds upon the bedroom flooring. Laughter. We laughed like it was a salaried corporate job with no overtime, 70 hour workweeks, and 5 days of vacation. Jess and I laughed every damn day, even during the most difficult ones.
I miss the person who knew me best, who stood by my side while inaudibly whispering encouragement into my being. While nothing can replace those moments, there is solace in knowing I’ll always have the memories as well as the sensation which accompanies recalling them. The feeling is similar to one you receive while reading or watching the best part of a dramatic story. You know the part I’m speaking of; when you can’t help grinning ear to ear over how awfully cheesy the couple’s relationship is. You either want to jump in and take their place or murder the director for excessiveness emphasis. “We get it, move on!” This part usually occurs while trying to convey how insanely unique their bond is. Most times it’s a montage and typically happens right before the excrement hits the air cooling device. I love reliving that ever changing montage from our own story as it’s always familiar, it’s always true, and it’s always mine. But a memory can only mimic so much reality no matter how deep your mind delves into its expanse. And so, I miss my best friend. I miss knowing exactly what she would find funny and saying it in the most inopportune times just to test her social resolve. I miss never having a dull moment or lack of entertainment when we desired it. I miss always learning new stuff about one another and being utterly floored each time something new was unearthed. I miss being seriously impressed at how easily she could make me laugh, sometimes unknowingly of course. I miss hearing her enjoyment from my bad jokes, strange noises, and odd voices. This doesn’t stop me from blurting out such things these days as I still hear her lucid laugh trailing just behind… a mere memory echoing through my mind.
I can still feel her too. It’s different now of course but when I release reality while sinking into the depths of a truly vivid memory… it’s as if she’s right here with me, well at least in some small way. We used to lug our mattress down our apartment steps some nights, “Pivot! Pivot!” then plop it right in front of the fireplace and watch TV. I’d gaze at her chest as it undulated like an outgoing tide while the shadows slowly retreated down the walls and back into the fire. Her breath tickles my eyelashes, her heat wraps itself around my being, her scent mingles with the aroma of the evening autumn breeze blowing through the screen door. Her thudding heart steals my attention from the fire’s dying crackle as we lose ourselves within one another’s gaze. Her entire being seduces my own fascination with this beautiful soul lying before me. Resolution is tested as we wait for the other to drift off to sleep. Her blinks come more often now… heavier, each lasting longer than the last until they cease altogether. My own follow suit shortly after. I suddenly wake with the realization that I want to see her one last time before my dreams sweep in. A weary eyelid cracks open only to find both her glistening eyes peering back at me with something you never see in the movies. I miss that look. What I wouldn’t give just to exchange one last gaze through overlapping crescents on a playground swing… her unmatched admiration pouring into my own simply for loving her unconditionally… as if I ever had a reason not to.
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