My best friend is leaving (long)

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

It’s only hit me now, 4:30 on a Sunday morning.

My best friend is leaving Montreal. He’s going to travel in Australia for a while, then plans on settling in Toronto. The reasons for his decision on moving to Toronto is that his French isn’t that great (it’s abominable, actually), and he thinks there will be better opportunities for him there.

I’m the last one standing here in Montreal. All of my close friends from Ottawa moved here after high school, to go to McGill or Concordia. Ryan (my best friend) and I were boyfriends at the time, and planned on moving here to live together.

I stayed in Ottawa and did my first year of university there, because Ryan was a year younger than me, and I didn’t want to leave him. Then I undertook the painstaking process of getting myself admitted to McGill’s music composition program - not an easy task. I had to submit a portfolio of my compositions, as well as come to Montreal to do a piano audition. In the end, I was one of six out of 200 applicants accepted that year.

We broke up in May of 1992. Three days later, I got my letter of acceptance from McGill. I wasn’t about to turn that opportunity down.

So I moved to Montreal, thinking I was the hottest thing, and lived with two female friends of mine from high school. Eventually I saw Ryan. He told me he had met someone new. I couldn’t take it. I guess I hadn’t gotten over him (I was only 20). I remember seeing my new friend Eric and stealing him away so that I could cry on his lap on the terrace of Place Ville-Marie.

One day, I was walking home from a dreadful orchestration class, and I saw Ryan walking up my street, looking all forlorn. I asked him what was wrong. His boyfriend had dumped him. I took him back to my place and helped him feel better. We got drunk.

For a couple of years, we had our ups and downs, but eventually settled into a deep friendship that I have no words to describe. He would take care of me; I would take care of him. I’d lend him money; he would do the same.

We even celebrated what would have been our ten-year anniversary back in 1999, with a nice dinner in an expensive Italian place in Old Montreal.

We don’t see each other often enough, but just knowing he was here was always a source of comfort. He would do anything for me, and I would do anything for him.

Now he’s leaving. I’ll have his bunny until she dies, but he’ll be gone. He suggested I move to Moronto as well, but I’m not leaving this beautiful city. But he won’t be here for me anymore. The best friend I ever had will be gone, somewhere else, living a different life. I know I can always call him, but it won’t be the same.

Ryan is the final one of the “let’s move to Montreal!” bunch to move to Moronto. He’ll be gone, living in Moronto with the rest of the bunch that abandoned this city. I’m the last one here, but I refuse to move, even if it costs me my best friend in some way. I love Montreal too much to leave here. I’ve made many close friends who live here, but I just fear that it won’t be the same without my best friend nearby. Someone who accepts me with all of my shortcomings and faults, yet still loves me unconditionally. We grew up together. We learned to be out and proud together. We learned about love, loyalty, and caring - together.

I don’t know if I’m going to find that again.

I wish he wouldn’t leave, but given my love for him, I wish him all the best in his future endeavours. I’m just going to be sad for a while, if you all don’t mind.

:frowning:

  • s.e.
2

It just sucks that 10 years after we broke up, I’m crying about losing him - again. :frowning:

3

((((scott))))

Loss, it’s a scummy old bastard, eh?

4

Much as I’d rather not go on and on, well, here I go.

He’s leaving. I’ll be OK. But it won’t be the same. It just won’t. :frowning: His leaving makes me regret all the times we were supposed to get together for lunch or whatever, and for some reason, we had to cancel.

He was my first boyfriend. I met him when he was about 15. I didn’t figure that he might be gay until about a year later. I was outside the school, smoking on the sidewalk, when Ryan emerged from the doors. I said to my friend Cheryn, “Look, it’s Ryan.” She said, “Yeah, an art fag.” Me: “Really? Do you think he’s gay?”

A few months later, at the beginning of the next school year, we were casting for a production of my first musical, Figures. Ryan auditioned, and we cast him in one of the principal roles - not because I was hot for him, but because he had an incredible voice, and stage presence to boot.

We started spending a lot of time together. (He knew I was gay, but didn’t quite know he was.) One day I invited him over after school. All very innocent, it would seem. However, the tension in the smoke-filled air of my bedroom was palpable. We had to resort to passing notes to each other because we were too afraid to speak. Finally, I wrote “Let me hold you for a minute.” And I did, and that was it for that evening. But it was the best feeling I had ever felt. In my arms, I held a boy that I had a crush on, was attracted to, and cared for, for the first time in my life. I was no longer bound by str8 conventions. In this moment, I knew love could supercede sexual orientation.

As I’ve said before, I long got over him, and we’ve settled into a deep friendship that no words can describe. Sorry if I seem whiny, but my best friend is leaving forever. :frowning:

It just won’t be the same without him. If I didn’t love this city so much, I might have considered moving to Moronto, but I have a good job here, a nice place, and other good friends. I’ll just be missing Ryan incredibly, thank-you-very-much.

  • s.e.
5

That’s a lovely story, scott. Passing notes to each other, alone in your room - that shows the tension and shyness so clearly.

In a sense, you’re lucky to have such a beautiful story happen in your life. And parting is not always ending, no? Perhaps other beautiful stories will happen in your life. I hope so.

All the best.