"Hello, old friend."
It's a line that had been used for years between Sarah and I. It allowed us to know, in the first seconds of a conversation, that we were still on good terms. In this case, it was the first conversation in two years between us. It was good to know that we were still good friends.
Even though Sarah and I had dated in high school, the fact that her family moved away after graduation made our relationship difficult. After the move, we wrote to each other, called each other, and depended upon each other. That closeness lasted a few months, and then she dropped the bomb: "I'm trying to get on out here away from you. It's nothing personal. I hope we can be friends."
Of course, that's the line that every eighteen-year-old wants to hear. Well, friends it was. We stopped the writing and stopped the calling, but I don't think we ever really stopped depending upon each other. Unfortunately, our situations no longer allowed for us to really keep up with each other's lives. Time passed, and we almost forgot about each other. Then Katie died.
Katie was a mutual friend from high school. She died tragically while traveling overseas on a college trip. The funeral brought us back together, and the line got its first real use.
"Hello, old friend."
We chatted of things familiar. She was making the trip back home to attend the funeral. Could we do lunch? When are you coming in? Of course I'll pick you up at the train station. Don't worry, I'll take care of everything. And I did.
Her train arrived in at the station at 10:45 in the morning. Not wanting to seem too eager to see her, I only arrived at 10:15, just in case the train came early. The plan was to go from the station, then to lunch, then to Katie's funeral service, which started at 1:00. Her train out wasn't until 8:00 that night, so we would have the entire day to enjoy each other's company. Besides, there were some other friends that we both wanted to see, although not quite under such dire circumstances.
As Sarah's train pulled into the station, I was nervous. It had been two years since she moved away, and I wasn't sure how she was going to look, much less react. As the passengers disembarked, I nonchalantly waited, leaning my tall thin frame against a pillar just inside the terminal. I tried to hide the pounding in my chest by looking all the more relaxed, but the moment that I saw her, I think all my suavity broke down.
Sarah's lean five-foot-six frame came through the door, and my jaw must have hung open like a loose patio door. The sundress that she wore to match the warm summer day was cut just low enough to be tasteful at a funeral, yet the hem of the dress was just high enough to attract my attention. Unfortunately, she knew just what to wear to get my attention, and she had it completely.
As she approached, her eyes met mine, and the smile that she flashed took me right back to high school. I must have been looking a bit too long, because her eyebrows raised as she came closer.
"Hello, old friend."
The hug that she gave was awkward for about one second, and then our bodies fell into old habits. I lifted her off the ground, and she smiled as she looked into my eyes. We had traveled back in time two years, and it was as if she had only been away for a weekend. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and this was the example to prove it.
Ever the gentleman, I took her suitcase, and carried it for her as we walked to the car. Lunch was a short drive away, and as we ordered our food, we spent most of the time catching up with each other.
How are you? Fine. How's your family? My brother joined the army. I'm surprised! Nah, it was a good thing for him. How's school going? Fine, papers are due in a few weeks. Seeing anybody? Nope.
It was that last question that we had both been dying to ask, and when it finally came out, there was nothing else to really talk about.
Again the gentleman, I pulled out her chair for her, and as we paid our tab, our hands locked. We walked to the car not saying anything, but that simple gesture had said everything that needed to be said: I've missed you.
Before the funeral service, Sarah and I made the rounds with old friends. John, Anne, Bob, Drew, Matt... they were old faces whom I had not seen since graduation. However, each of them seem surprised to see Sarah and I together, especially given the circumstances of our break-up. We paid them no heed, and stuck together throughout the service. It was a sober experience, and everybody talked afterward about how much fun Katie was, and how she was always someone who was going somewhere in life. Sarah and I said our good-byes and made our way back to the car, hands locked together once again.
Not knowing what to do after the service, we drove the beach to sit and talk. We were fond of the beach, and it held more than its share of memories for the both of us. We took off our shoes, and strolled barefoot through the sand to the sound of the waves gently crashing against the sand. Our hands shifted from being locked to being around each other's waists as we walked. Again, it was wonderful to know that we could fall back into old habits with nary a word to each other.
We sat. We talked. We held each other as the sun headed toward the horizon. We realized the time was moving too fast for two old friends, and started back towards the train station as slowly as we could.
The final boarding call was made, another hug was given, much less awkward than the morning's, and she went to board her train. Before she could go through the terminal door, she turned, and our lips met once again. Thirsty for each other, our bodies came together as we kissed away two year's worth of pent up passion for each other. The final boarding call was announced. Our kiss broke, she put a finger to my lips, and those baby-blue eyes and shoulder-length blond hair left on the train for parts unknown. I realized we had not bothered to exchange our new contact information, and maybe it was for the best. Old flames die hard.
Two years later. Unsatisfied at the hometown college, I transferred downstate to not only be at a better program, but also to be at the same school as my girlfriend, Cindy. We had met the year previous, and were rather serious about each other, so much so that I was willing to go through the hassle of transferring schools to be closer to her. Of course, along with a new address and phone number of the dorms, a new school brings a new email address, so I had to send out the new information to everybody in the address book. Mass email is a wonderful thing, and sometimes has unintended consequences.
