I love watching the moon. It’s spectacular. I especially like it when it’s a full moon and the sky is dark; the stars sparsely scattered away from it, far from its glittering beauty. There, the moon busks uninterrupted. Exquisite. It’s this fascination that had me walking with my eyes shot up to the sky. Gazing, as I tread slowly so as not to trip myself. Not wanting to miss a second of the pretty Lady Moon swaying her curves in the open sky effortlessly. (Somehow, I think the Moon is a woman). Then I heard this laugh burst out in front of me. A familiar laugh.
Have you ever lost a close friend?
I guessed right, the laugh was His. My eyes looked at Him and the chap He shared the laugh with. I walked slowly behind them, not wanting to interrupt their moment. Then He parted ways with the chap and I later caught up on His steps. He turned and saw me. His smile faded away. I expected that. I wasn’t smiling at Him either. We hugged and continued walking in the same direction. A cold unsentimental hug. Then few words were exchanged.
‘Hey, how are you doing?’ I asked.
‘I’m fine (silence) – you?’ He responded.
‘I’m good (more silence).’
For the next half a minute or so, we walked in silence. Deeply engrained in our individual thoughts. We are neighbours in opposite houses over-looking each other, at some point I swear I saw Him walking faster trying to get to the part where we parted ways as we entered our respective homes. I also did the same. Once I got in and locked the gate behind me, I sighed. Trying to let go of the heavy emotions that stopped me from talking much to Him as we walked or even saying a kind goodnight. It’s not the same anymore. He used to be my best friend, my amigo, my right hand man. But things changed, life happened, my bad choices or His (whichever), changed the status quo on us. It’s no longer the same.
This, I have to live with.
Sometimes I wish I could change it all together; get back to those days we’d spend endless hours talking, laughing, daydreaming together, moments of emotional vulnerability shared, been boys, been men and all that. Other times I convince myself we are better off just as we are, at least we still respect each other right?
I hate to admit this but it feels like our friendship is ‘dead’. It’s holding on hinges of convenience, a few swings from breaking off. Like a drowned man lying on the shores of the sea, it needs resuscitation. Deep resuscitation.
He’s the best male friend I’ve ever had, and I hope we’ll find a way to work this out eventually. Maybe time will fix it all up.
I have friends who’ve lost close friends too.
Brian narrated his experience to me; I’m not sure whether to call this a love triangle, it’s more than that, it’s a love heptagon – haha! This story is a bit complicated, but I need you to follow through keenly, okay? Here goes; Brian has this buddy friend, well they used to be really close. The buddy friend was dating a lady who is bisexual. Now, the bisexual lady had a clande chic on the side. The buddy friend slept with the clande (ouch!). As fate would have it, the bisexual, came to learn of it, somehow. One night she calls her boyfriend to confront him of his heinous act of unfaithfulness, cheating on him with her clande (really?). She was crying, drenched in tears. The buddy friend hang-up on her, he wasn’t ready for all that drama at 11:13pm at night. In retaliation and probably needing a shoulder to cry on, she called Brian – who, is getting toasted on his third or fifth bottle of Guinness – and they end up talking. The problem is, he can’t seem to remember what he told her, not even a word (another reason why alcohol is shit for you). What conspired was the buddy friend one day asking Brian, ‘kwani what did you tell Carol?’ I think he spilled the beans on his amigo. Brian admitted to him he was drunk and couldn’t remember jack about that night or what he said. And just like that, their relationship drifted. It evaporated over time. They still talk but, it’s no longer the same.
Another lady told me how she fell off with her first-love boyfriend whom she felt they were made for each other and destined to be. She got pregnant with another man’s child, but it’s rather obvious don’t you think?
Kev talked about having different goals in life with his long-time friend. They had been best of friends until they both joined separate Universities, they socialized themselves with different types of company. Their individual lifestyles changed; drugs, women, sex, pastime leisure preference, dreams, ambitions, and they no longer have the same things to talk about. They are worlds apart.
My former office mate, Valentine, a crack head of sorts – now I know why – told me that the reason she fell out with her childhood girlfriend and partner in crime whom she used to smoke weed with was sorely because she found Jesus in her life. She got born again. As a result, their rhythms didn’t seem to play to the same tune anymore. No more catching a blunt together or sharing similar life challenges.
Then I met these three musketeers. The top cat was my high school amigo, he was my senior by one year and took care of me as a newbie in the school. Tykun (for Tycoon) is his alias name, he’s a maestro tattooist, has a tattoo shop called Tattoo Nation along Moi Avenue next to Sanford fast food restaurant. I secretly admire the art pieces pinned all over his arms. Anyway, he was chilling out with Eric and Frank, some great chaps too. Frank was sipping on some whisky, it was past 5pm. When I asked them whether they had lost a friend, the responses were worth listening to. They all could relate to the question, Tykun said that most of his close friends messed up the relationship they shared majorly because of money issues. ‘Money can wreck friendships,’ he told me. He trusted them with money, then betrayal and mistrust ensued. He also talked about guys who went behind his back and stabbed him. If ever there was a relationship breaker tactic, this is it. A perfect knock out!
Eric mentioned that once one of his friend started making good cheddar, more than he did, he started feeling the gap slowly forming between them. The guy had moved on to a higher social class and disregarded Eric’s. This guy started treating him as though he was part of an inferior social class and so they fell off.
Frank kept his response short, he told me with a straight face, ‘when your best friend f**ks your girlfriend, it’s never the same.’ I totally agree.
Friendships are made. They ought to be sustained, but along the way, some are lost.
Here’s the big question, is your lost friendship worth fighting for?