Friday January 5, 2007 SGN.org |
 |
Volume 35 Issue 01 |
 |
|
Saturday, Jul 19, 2008
|
 |
|||||||||||
|
|||||||||||
|
| |||||||||||
|
Tour De Life by Beau Burriola |
||
 |
||
| Last call | ||
|
I knew it was him when the cell phone began to shake, but I didn't get out of bed to answer. He always calls or stops by when I'm already in bed and so, figuring he was probably drunk as usual or involved in some cataclysmic drama (which he absolutely must talk about this second into the early hours of morning), I didn't bother to answer. Just go to sleep and he won't know you're here. Fatigue pulled at me, but my mind was still going. I was wondering how we got to this point. Not too long ago, I would have leapt out of bed to open the door and comfort him through his latest big episode with this guy or that friend. I'd listen intently, being as supportive as possible, but never saying what I thought about it all. We had been friends for ten years and, if for no other reason that that, I felt like I owed it to him to just listen. I learned long ago that I'd prefer not to dispense advice on things I don't really understand. The phone rang again a couple of minutes later. I tossed and stared up at the ceiling. I needed sleep. Don't answer it. You know what will happen. He will come in with some story, always colorful and completely unbelievable, and spill it all in desperation for you to try to decipher, piece together, fix. His story will be followed by that hopeless sigh I have come to expect and eventually resent, hearing it more and more often with each passing year. I would listen in silence. I'd fail to help him again. I wanted to tell him I was sick of him showing up drunk at my door. I wanted to tell him to grow up and get right, but I remember when he cleaned up his life from meth two years ago and figured that at least this wasn't that. It also wasn't the time he fell badly for that Canadian kid and spent all his effort, money and time heading right for disaster. I'm not perfect, either, and have come to believe that these smaller questions are his to live - not mine. When the phone rang again, I put the pillow over my head, annoyed with his persistence. It was this persistence I used to admire; I didn't now, not one bit. Whatever brought him into my life ten years ago - whether we were on the same path, whether I thought we always laughed, or whether I thought that coming from the same place made us kindred queerfolk - no longer feels like enough to keep him there. More and more, I don't answer the phone. More and more, I find myself making excuses for why I can't go have a drink or come to the door. More and more, the momentary fatigue is becoming something more enduring and the avoided meetings are cementing into something more final. A decade ago, I believed that friendship was some chance magic that binds people without much effort. A month away from 28, my view is either smarter or more cynical. As a gay man struggling to keep my own life healthy and balanced, I want the energy I expend on friendships to bring some sort of personal growth. It's no longer enough to have people in my life, I want healthy relationships. No longer do I have the patience for maintaining the endlessly optimistic relationships I did at twenty. Now I want to look closer at why I call people friends. By the time my cell phone began buzzing violently across the nightstand the final time that night, I made my decision. With the last flashes and sounds of the phone fading to silence, a very long friendship followed suit. A final talk later would have to be enough. I'm not always sure about the decisions I make. I make mistakes and I know this could be one of them, but all I have to make good decisions on my future are the experiences of my past. I hope that's wisdom. Comforted for the moment with the silence, I finally fell asleep and the phone didn't ring again. Beau Burriola is a local writer searching for paths through the thick leave-covered floors of the forest leading on toward thirty years old. E-mail him at beaubrent@gmail.com |
||
|
visit Beau at www.beaubrent.com
|
||
 |
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
International Readers read the SGN in Arabic, Chinese, French, German, Italian, Japanese, Korean, Portuguese, Spanish |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 post your own information on Seattle Gay Blog |
copyright Seattle Gay News - DigitalTeamWorks 2006