I’ve recently broken up with my best friend. I’ll miss her so much. I wrote her this e-mail tonight. I thought I’d share it with y’all…
Before I sober up or become less emotional (oh, what the booze does to a guy), I wanted to share a story that I shared with Myron and some girl last night (the girl is incidental to the story).
I’ve told you this story before, but I’d only ever told it to you, and it seems a little more emotional now that I’ve told it to someone else.
When I was a young fellow, there was this guy named Leslie who lived in the next subdivision over. None of the fellows liked him. I know I didn’t. I’m not sure why. I guess he was just “different”.
I was in Air Cadets at one point. We all went off to Air Cadet camp. It was in the woods. We had wargames and such. It was very, very fun. Leslie was there. He had joined. Probably that year, but that meant that he’d already been in for a full season, at that point. I mean, if he was at camp in the summer, he must have been in all year, I’d just not noticed him. I mean, I was a senior cadet at that point. I was far too important at that point to notice who the little peons were.
I was walking down a gravel road with my “senior officer”, a hot girl who was a rank above me. We saw Leslie, and I remembered that I didn’t like him. I told (I don’t remember her name, let’s call her Jenny) Jenny that I couldn’t stand Leslie. Had he been here all weekend, I asked? Yes, he had, she told me.
As we passed on the gravel road, I said some words to him. I don’t remember what those words were. I do vaguely recall that I told him what I thought of him. I think he told me he didn’t care. Think of me however you wish… I think that those were the words roughly spoken by him. At least, it’s a reasonable paraphrase.
I punched him. I punched him right in the belly, for such insolence. I punched him in the stomach, and he dropped. He couldn’t breathe, after all. He was winded. He couldn’t say a thing if he wanted to. I threw some harsh words his way; the girl I was with laughed. At least one of my comment was a threat of personal harm. I believe that I told him never to come back.
I never saw Leslie again. He never returned to cadets. He never dared to come back. After all, it was yet another place that he was unwelcome.
I told Myron and this girl this story tonight. Pretty much as above. And then I cried. Not weeping, per se, but I did have to wipe my face two, maybe three times.
You have taught me to care. Thank you, for that. 18 months ago, I’d never told that to anyone. At least in the smallest part, the reason I’d never told it is that it never really mattered. I hadn’t discovered that what I have done in my past mattered to me, until I met you.
Thank you. I really truly believe that I’m a better person for having known you. Thank you.
Leslie, if you happen to be out there, know that I’m very, very sorry.
(Joking! Joking!)