Loving my Best friend

My love for my best friend is nothing intimate. It is pure friendship and no malice. I always think that our relationship status is what keeps us together for ten years.

I love hanging out with him. It makes me happy and giddy. His arm on my shoulder makes me feel always protected. And his smile always makes all my problems go away.

We spend all our weekends together, and if not in my place then usually at his place. A movie there and a game here, our life is a normal happy circle. We do the same things and never get bored. Just being together is what keeps us both contented.

All the years we have together are so valuable. There are no stiff days but only good days. When he finds a girlfriend, nothing changes. We still continue our regular weekends. He never goes as far away as the distance in our house.

He was diagnosed with cancer. But he tells me he’d rather spend his days being happy than thinking how sick he is. And by saying he wants to be happy, he means he wants to spend his remaining days with the woman he loves, and of course that is his girlfriend.

I don’t know what they do during weekends and I don’t want to ask. He never calls me again anyway. But I wish they’d watch a movie or play a game like we used to because I know that is what he loves doing even though it is not with me anymore. On the other hand, I spend mine thinking of him, and I never get bored.

When he calls me saying he has a note for me, I say I’d meet him in his place. I don’t ask about his girlfriend, I never did.

I sat across from him in the living room. He looks pale and sickly – cancer is so evident in him. I feel sad but not sad in a way that I want to blame the cancer or whoever it is to blame. How long we sit in silence is not something I could remember. He hands me the letter and I leave. The only thing he says is for me not to cry. I silently congratulate myself for being so calm.

I don’t want to read the letter. I know when is the right time to read it.

His funeral lasts for a week. As I walk on my way home from the cemetery, I pick out the letter he gave me the day before he died from the pocket of my jeans. The letter says,

Dear Janice,

I hope you are not crying as I told you not to. Our friendship lasted for ten years and I want to believe that you know me well enough to follow my instructions very well. Smile if you can.

Now, the inevitable has come. Remember that day I told you I want to die a happy man? Well, I am happy. And thanks to you. You make me so happy I couldn’t ask for more.

During the weekends, I think of you. I trust you enough that I don’t have to tell you that in person or over the phone. I hope you don’t spend your weekends watching a movie or playing a game because if you do then I’d rather kill myself, not that I’m not aware the cancer is doing that to me anyway. I want to tell you that I never get bored and I hope you aren’t too.

I remember you say that life is a happy circle. Indeed, it is. But I want to add too that life only becomes a happy circle if there is love. And with you, I find the meaning of life. And that is a life with love. Love for another human being doesn’t need titles like girlfriend, fiancée, or wife to prove there is the presence of love. The simple way of mutually feeling it is enough proof, because love need not be complicated. And with you, I feel love.

P.S.

Have I tell you about Sandy? No, of course not. We never talk about her. Anyway, her house is a mile away from yours. If you need a friend to talk to, she’s available. And she’s the one who offered. In our three-month relationship, I learned a lot. And one is she’s a good friend. I’ll be really happy if you get in touch with her.

P.S.S

Now you can cry.

Love,

Luke

I realize I can’t stop crying. And the next thing I know, my house is already a mile away, and I’m standing in front of a different house. She knows how I feel, and she understands.

Thanks Luke. With you I find love too. And with that, I live a happy life. Now is the time I meet a new friend.