I was browsing through my reader (is that what it’s called? The subscription list? I think that’s what it’s called on here) and came across this post. The first line says, “A best friend is a home”, so I closed my computer and called my best friend.
It’s been about a month since I spoke to him, and talking to him today was just what I needed: some car talk, a kick in the butt, and a “love you Mol” before we hung up after an hour and a half. He’s like the older brother that I always wanted as a kid. I have two actual older brothers, but we’re not close. Not at all. They won’t even give me their phone numbers.
We met through a mutual friend when I was 16 and at boarding school. I e-mailed him for her (she wasn’t allowed) and then we started to strike up conversations. After I graduated, he drove to NY and spent some time with my family. The next year I went to Minnesota and spent time with his. It’s been like that for years now – back and forth. NY or MN. Now that I’m so much farther away, I wish I had taken more time for Minnesota. I spent my 21st birthday there (as some of you from Xanga know). We bought a case of beer and went fishing in the river by his house. One of his friends joined us and we ate pizza and started a campfire on the sand (they’re both boy scouts. Look at them go). That was my favourite birthday so far.
My little sister has taken to talking to him. Which is cool. It’s not like I have a monopoly on speaking with my friends. And he doesn’t tell her things that I don’t know. But it makes me feel a bit shit when I’m on the phone with her and I hear, “I was talking to Kevin the other day and…”. I get protective. He’s my friend first. Mine. Is that weird? I’m the same way with my friend Amanda, but she doesn’t talk to my family much, so it’s not nearly as bad.
Maybe it’s just because he was my friend for so long before anyone else knew about him. He was a secret friend. I could only talk to Jamie (mutual friend) about him because if we had been caught then my e-mail privileges would have also been taken away. They read all in-coming and out-going mail at the school, so I couldn’t write home about my new friend. I couldn’t even write to him except for e-mail. Things that start in secret don’t always last, but maybe when they do, the bond created is stronger.
I don’t know.