Our last goodbye

Bzzzzt Bzzzzt 

Some bonds between people supersede others. Human souls can become tender to others when tragedy strikes but you manage to hold together and stay standing as the dust settles around you both. 

Bzzzzt Bzzzzt 

Time will test these bonds. Distance will test these bonds. Above it all, you will test these bonds. 

Bzzzzt Bzzzzt 

As bittersweet as it is, sometimes these bonds break or are forgotten, and you end up wondering how it came to be that way. 

Bzzzzt Bzzzzt 

And then, as if time has rewind and you are back in the days where you knew with your soul that there was one person you could truly depend on, it’s like nothing ever happened. Like there were no tears ever shed. Like things are ok.  

I think that’s why I picked up the phone. 

2:08am and Adrian has called me for the first time in 6 years. The last time I saw him was at his college dorm room, when he said he had to go. I was the one who left that day, but he was the one who disappeared from my life, leaving me with only the hope that he would change his mind. 

And he did. 

“Adrian?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Adrian, what’s wrong?” 

The world shifted around me the way it does when you’ve just woken up, with dark corners of my room pulsing as a February wind blew past my window. 

“Mia, Mimi, I need your help.” The sound of the broken sobs shook me, awakened my senses. He needed me, and he’s in trouble. 

“I’m coming.” 

3:47am and I arrived at Adrian’s apartment. It’s in the southside of the city, where even at these hours figures are still moving in the shadows. I never liked being in this area, where the colors are muted and no flowers grow. This isn’t a good place for Adrian. He must feel so alone here. 

I bundle up and go up the stairs to apartment 34. A face I’ve always known opens the door and for a second I can’t see, maybe because of the bright light. But when I can see it’s all I need to see, because what I saw was the friend I grew up with. Years of sunlight, kitchen tables, school lockers and quiet windowsill nights came back. They all came back until I was there again, walking up the steps of apartment 34. 

The soft smell of cologne and cotton surrounds me as I reach the top, as I felt the collar of his jacket on my cheek. “Breathe, Adrian, breathe,” I said, closing my eyes, swaying in a familiar motion. “We’ll get through this, everything can be okay again.” 

5:50am and Adrian was finally asleep. It would be impossible for me to ever retrace conversations we’ve had on nights like this. It’s something so private, so sacred that I couldn’t relive them if I wanted to. I noticed the weariness in his movement almost as soon as I saw him and recognized the anguish he was in, and I knew exactly why he called me, every single reason. Once again, Adrian was in a hole deeper than he could see. 

I pet his dog as I looked around his apartment, absorbing the details of the life Adrian has been living the past 6 years. There were empty cans on his counters, barely any food in the fridge, and the feeling that some corners of this home still haven’t been touched. This sight was a familiar one. This feeling was a familiar one. The feeling that my dear friend was in such a dark time he didn’t believe he’d see the morning. 

When I was 12 years old I had come over to his house like any other day. The sun was shining and I wanted to go get some ice cream. With a dollar fifty in my pocket I knocked on his front door, waiting for him to open it like he always did. But Mrs. Sanchez opened the door, and today she looked very tired. There were dark circles under her eyes and her beautiful Puerto Rican hair was tied in a messy bun. 

“Hi Mrs. Sanchez, can Adrian come out right now?” I asked, shifting as I tried to look past her for my friend. 

Instead of stepping aside like she did in instances like these, Mrs. Sanchez let out a heavy sigh and looked into the sky behind me, her eyes glassy and voice a little wobbly. “Adrian won’t be able to play for a little while.” 

“Why not?” Maybe he had to go spend the weekend with his dad. 

Mrs. Sanchez took a minute to respond, biting her lip and not looking as strong as I had always seen her as. “Adrian, is, um, not feeling so well,” she said, a small sob escaping her. “I’ll let him know you came by though.” 

With that she closed the door softly and I was left confused, because Adrian hadn’t been sick at all yesterday, and I don’t know why Mrs. Sanchez would cry if he’s just not feeling well. Two months later Adrian came over to my house, and I asked if he was feeling better and he said he had never actually been sick. That day I learned that the world can be very dark, and some people can get really sad. 

I think I called Mia because she has never turned me away. In all my periods of darkness she had sat next to me and told me stories of places and times where hurt and sadness never took hold of human souls, and I liked those stories. Mia never tried to tell me what I should do. She just was there, and sometimes you just need someone there. 

The day I told Mia I was leaving was a hard day. I tried to tell myself I was just protecting her and saving her from heartbreak, but I knew it was because I didn’t want her in my life anymore. The oasis that she was made me a man with hope I didn’t want to have. Some people don’t want to be saved and that was a time in my life where I refused to be. 

I’ve always seen life through a shade of blue. No matter how much people pump happiness and entertainment into their lives, deep down you know that none of it is worth much. Isn’t this all about life and death? Shouldn’t we be more concerned that life might not have meaning, that there could be no God and whatever lives we live might not amount to anything? I lived with this reality, this mindset, day and day. The days I spent with Mia eased the burden of these thoughts, but that day when I was twelve, I didn’t feel twelve. I felt that I was thirty, maybe forty, and desperate. I found the conclusion that life didn’t mean much, meaning that I was free to be unchained of the pains and heartbreak I felt from lives I must have lived before. 

When I called Mia, it was because I knew I was going to actually do it this time. I had a plan, I had the materials, and I had a will. Yet, with all this, a little bit of me wanted to stay. Maybe because life has shown me a thing or two these past years. Maybe because that girl from two years back changed me a little. Maybe it was because I knew it would break my mom and I don’t know who would have walked my dog everyday. I just didn’t know if that little bit of me would have won or not. So I called her. 

9:15am and Adrian comes out of his room, rubbing his eyes and sitting at the table. I pass him a mug of coffee and start making toast. “How are you feeling today?” 

Even with my back to him I felt his eyes watching my hands. “I’m feeling good.” 

Though I’ve known Adrian almost since birth, I still never knew the exact right words to say after a time like this. I felt liked these times are delicate, like they shouldn’t be touched or bothered and should be left in peace. I turn back around with some toast and butter, some of the only things he actually had in his fridge. “I, uh, think I should get going soon,” I said, passing him his plate and sitting in the chair next to him. “I have a shift at 12 and I, uh, need to get ready.” 

Adrian’s eyes became big, a little lost, with toast in hand and questions in his mouth. “Sorry you have to go so soon.” 

I nodded, looking down into the dark mug of coffee in front of me. “Maybe you can come by at 9, when my shifts over.” 

He smiled a little. “I will,” he said, then looked out the window for a minute, or maybe a second, or maybe an hour. “I’m sorry Mia.” 

“For what?” 

“For not calling you these past years.” 

I looked away. “It’s been a long time Adrian.” 

“I know. I'm sorry.” 

We’ve been together for more of our life than we’ve been apart, and I struggled with losing him. I wanted Adrian to stay, I wanted to chain him to my soul because he is worth too much to lose. But I grew to accept that he needed to find something that I couldn’t help him find. “I better get going.” 

“I guess so.” 

I start walking to his door, petting his dog bye and grabbing my purse. I turned back, looking at the blurry Adrian my eyes were showing me. “You’re going to come right? It’s the Applebee's on 12th Street, remember?” 

Adrian nodded, a hint of smile on his lips. “I remember, Mia. I’ll be there at nine.” 

I nodded, stepping outside and closing the door behind me. No use saying bye, I'm going to see him later today. 

Mia once told me she refused to say goodbye if she believed she would see them again soon. I told her that was stupid, things change and plans get cancelled, but she stood by it and didn’t say goodbye because the thought of it is just too sad for her. She didn’t say goodbye to me that day in my college dorm and she didn’t say it today.  

I don’t pray a lot, but when I do, I thank God for Mia. I need a stable place in my life, something that I can always come back to, and she is it. I’ve known Mia for as long as I can remember as we’ve grown up together. I’ve made many mistakes in life, and I think that leaving her that day was my biggest one. I remember the day I was leaving for college my mom had come into my room, placed her hand on my knee, and told me to count my blessings before I go to bed at night, to never lose focus of what matters. I haven’t always known what matters. 

We’ve been apart for long years, but she was there this whole time. 

We’ve always been a part of each other. 

That’s why I’m living to see another day.