Yesterday, as I was writing, I started thinking about my old friend, Ron. We had worked together at a night club in Fort Worth and then remained friends. When I moved to NYC, we kept talking and he kept saying that he wanted to get out of Texas. Eventually, he went backpacking through Europe, ending up in NYC, where he lived with me for six months. Then he moved back to Texas, finally moving to Alaska to work in some tourism thing where he lived on a Glacier and people flew in to eat salmon and look at the beautiful surroundings. The last time I saw him was in Seattle where we met up with our friend, Debbie. It ended on a bitter note because I pulled it out of Ron that he was gay and he admitted that he had been gay for years, but had kept that bit of information from me.
Our mutual friend, Karen, had told me that he was now living in Hawaii, but I had no contact information and didn't know anything about him. I looked up his parent's information on the internet and called. He happened to be there. He was visiting. He hadn't been to Texas in two years. He lives on a houseboat off Oahu and does home remodeling for a living. He's dating some guy for two months.
There are people that I don't talk to for years and when we talk we both start talking like we'd just talked last week. My favorite person to do that with is my friend, Linda. Karen and I do that, too. But Ron and I did a pretty good job. I feel like I need to write him and apologize for being an ass when he came out to me. How many people did I used to know SO well and have daily contact with, and now I don't even have an e-mail address for them?
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