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In retrospect, life feels like it was very easy then, though I know I didn't really feel that way when it was all happening. Countless nights where it took nothing but you and me to make the hours go by like moments. Sitting in Mike's basement, listening to you play the drums. In the kitchen with whatever was on the menu for the night--never again in my life have I eaten that much take-out. You and Jeff changing the Bubmlebee's oil and having the car spit out a spark plug on the way home. Some idiot trying to steal my car from the front of your house while we reclined in the driveway, staring up at the stars.
Doesn't take much to make me think about it. Laundromats. Frozen yogurt. Opus. Primus. Slush Puppies. Grocery stores late at night. Chili Peppers on the radio. Yellow cars. Drumsticks. Men with long dark hair.
I was adrift when you walked into my life that night at Blockbuster, no roots to speak of at all until you and Jeff and Mike brought me back to Mike's mom's house and you cheated your way through Uno. But you held me there and made me feel safe, and I don't know that I ever really thanked you for giving me back some of the stability that had recently flown out of my life.
I really do miss you, you know.
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