I Didn't Write This...

... but I could have.
(From PostSecret.com)




Me in my light blue cotton dress with the spaghetti straps and ribbon belt. You in your powder blue tuxedo with the ruffled shirt. It was the early 80s, after all. We were a dashing couple, drinking hooch (You: beer. Me: lambrusco.) out of the back of your Toyota Tercell in between songs.

I had a feeling you were gay. But you never said a word and I never thought of asking. It was what it was.

We were such great pals, each having the other one's back. You dried my tears when I didn't get the part I wanted in the school musical, sending me flowers on opening night with a card saying "For when the applause comes." I still have that, tucked away somewhere in a box with my other treasures. And I stood beside you when you dropped the transmission out of whats-her-face's Firebird right there in the school parking lot. Although, honestly, honey, that was a really stupid move. I can say that now, 25 years later.

Even after we went off to college, you were there with me. I loved calling in when you were working the late night shift at the radio station and hearing all 15 of my requested songs in a row. And you took me to that sorority party so I wouldn't have to face my former love and his girlfriend alone, holding my hand tightly, making me feel secure.

We have lost touch, as happens with so many people who pass through our lives. But when I saw this postcard on PostSecret just now, I smiled both inside and out as I thought of you.

Here's to you, my old friend.

From the beginning you've been
Always there my old friend.
True until the end of time.
~ Al Jarreau