Memories

By Aradia

He was one of the best friends I ever had, and despite what I tell those who know the story, I know I will never forget him. Never.

Luke was one of those rare people who often saw past the image I present to the world - I tend to be very private about what I feel. And yet, he always just seemed to know. It didn’t matter what I wrote, or how I phrased sentences. It always seemed to me that he and I had a special link.

He and I had met in a chat room, one of those few places that allowed people to create imaginary characters. Characters that often inhabited a fantasy filled world, complete with dragons and wizards and other mythical creatures. Time passed, and we soon became close friends.

I could tell Luke anything, and he never judged me. He accepted what I said, and on occasion, offered advice. Advice that I could take, courses of action that never led me astray. He was the only person to whom I could confide everything, and still know that he’d be there for me. Maybe it was because we were so alike, and yet, so different. Maybe it was because we shared common philosophies. Maybe it was because we shared similar views on different facets of life. Or maybe it was a combination of all three.

Nearly two years after we became friends, he and I had a falling out. The details are unimportant; suffice it to say we exchanged harsh words over another friend of mine. Thus, we stopped talking to one another. I remember the night of the incident, that I was so upset I left my apartment to walk downtown for a bit, in the middle of the night. Looking back, I realise it was not one of my more intelligent decisions, but I simply needed to get out and take a walk.

So I did. And I found a mildly secluded area, and sat myself down to have a good cry. And I remember thinking a million jumbled thoughts, knowing that I had lost my friend. And that no matter what, our relationship had been permanently altered. We would never be as close as we had been before.

I haven’t spoken to Luke for approximately six months; I tried to mend our relationship, but he chose otherwise. But, I find that as time nears the two year anniversary of our falling out, I still think of him. I wish him all the best in the world, for he deserves all the best. I don’t hate him; I never could hate him.

A mutual friend of Luke’s and mine, Angel, once told me that she thought that maybe we had loved one another. When I told my friend, Crisa, she agreed with Angel. I doubt their opinions, slightly. Well, no, I actually didn’t specify to them what they meant.

I think if things had been different, we might still be friends. If circumstances had not been what they were, I might have changed my whole life for him. And maybe my whole perspective on life’s innumerable facets. Maybe not. I honestly don’t know, and I will never know.

Even as I write this, I ask myself why I bother. After all, Luke will more than likely be another ghost from the past, another spectre that will remain on the edge of my memory forever. But I know why I bother, with this at least. This will be my last tribute to my lost friend. Because, as I’ve said, I don’t hate him. I miss him.

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