The last day- he drove me to the airport...and we sat across from one another. I was outgoing on overdrive, happy about my infinite possibilities in the North. He was somber. At the gate, we kissed good-bye, and I told him not to cry. It was wrong of me to say that, but I had. Hours before my departure, he had asked me not to go, which had incensed me because he had known of the plan move for six months, and said nothing. Now, with plane ticket in hand, and a vacant apartment, he thought it was a good time for me to make a permanent life there.
One day, four years later, I was at my desk, sitting in a city in the North, with the set of the very things that I'd ever dreamed of- the corner office, surrounded by skyscrapers, the nice apartment, and supportive friends, and a long-term relationship. However, thoughts of him crept up...and I wrote:
I've missed our friendship very much. I want you to know
that I think of you often, and that I often remember the good times
that we had in New Orleans. I felt like a fish out of water (which I was!) but it was always fun spending time with you.
From your love of books and chairs (!) to your fabulous sense of
humor, I really thought and still think that you are such a great
person. I know that we have not kept in touch....
You will never know how hard it was for me to leave New Orleans. I
never said that, but it really was. Leaving was probably the hardest
thing that I have ever had to do...it made me very sad, but there was
an opportunity. It has taken me a long time to come to grips...and it
has been hard to go back even to visit, knowing that I had such a
fabulous life there. I think of New Orleans, the life that I had,
the friends that I made, it was really a difficult decision. I hope we'll catch up some day soon....
Yes, we eventually did. :) As for the chairs comment- yes, he has an awesome modernist furniture collection that looks straight out of the Art Institute of Chicago.
