Sancho Panza

I think that the biggest problem I have with getting older is that there are just too many years to look back on. Too many losses to keep track of, too few victories to celebrate. Lately I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about an old friend of mine from way way back. Joel. One of the most uncomplicated people I’ve ever known or may ever know. I can say with all honesty that he was a friend who touched me in a profound way, effectively changing the course of my life. That’s a big deal, right? I thought so, and think so. In my more whimsical flights of thought, I imagine that he was sent to me for just that purpose, plunked right down in the middle of my misery to shine the spotlight in a different direction, illuminating a new focus for me. Like I said; whimsical. In fact Joel entered my life through a series of random incidences, we traveled in concentric circles, smiling as we passed each other on the journeys of our lives until one day our circles became one. And then there were two; Joel and Baby (a ridiculous nickname given to me by some unsavory characters that stuck to me like liquid latex). Our friendship became a sanctuary for me; I could unravel myself in his arms, be safe and free of the constant fear that dogged my every waking moment during that time in my life.

Being with Joel was like stepping through the looking glass into a strange new world, the man was a total original, and the things he would say or do were as unpredictable as springtime weather in Utah, and I absorbed him like a sponge. So many ‘friends’ were around us at all times, the apartment he lived in was never empty, his roommate constantly had people over at all hours of the day and night so Joel and I would ‘escape’ to his Cali King behind a locked door and become engrossed in each other. We would talk for hours, telling each other everything and I do mean everything. I knew that his biggest dream in life was to have a little girl and that he wanted to name her Sophia, that he had an abiding love of mountain biking and that his bong was never beyond reach. We also listened to music, watched discovery channel or just lay entwined together. Looking back on it, I find it amusing how threatened others were by our relationship, we were under constant attack. When I wasn’t with him (which wasn’t very often) my ‘friends’ would tell him how wrong I was for him, that I was too young, that someone else would be a much better match for him. When they spoke to me, they would tell me that Joel thought I was just a joke, and he was telling everyone that he was just using me for sex and he was laughing behind my back. Yet, in the miasma of insecurities and self esteem issues that plagued my life, then now and forever, I never once believed it. I knew every bit of my strange, sometimes incomprehensible friend. Also, we were never lovers, or ever even kissed. We were just two people seeking solace in each other during a time of desperate need. It was a beautiful, unique and blissfully uncomplicated relationship and its absence in my life has left a void that can never be filled.


We are no longer friends, and as we drifted apart I mourned the loss but wasn’t surprised by it. Like every difficult time in a life, it passes, you’ve learned the lessons that needed learning and you move on and unfortunately not everyone moves in the same direction. Joel ended up married to a woman I know nothing about other then she had fake boobs, something that Joel found bothersome but not something he couldn’t overcome to be with her no matter what I may have hoped for in my black little heart. I’ll admit that despite his pleading with me, I could not force myself to be interested in knowing her. I wanted Joel to be happy, and if marriage to her made him happy then so be it, but I just couldn’t watch. I don’t know that she was a bad person or a good person for that matter, all I knew is that Joel’s soul no longer belonged to me and their marriage made that a bitter, but irrifutable fact. It makes no sense, but I was jealous of her, not because I wanted to marry Joel, or was in love with him but because I knew that she would not be ok with my friendship with him, no woman would be ok with their husband having such a deep connection with another woman, and that eventually he would have to choose and that he could not chose me over his wife. So I slipped away from him, leaving him to his much deserved happiness while I tried to find myself. A couple of years ago he called me out of the blue to tell me that he and his wife had adopted a little girl and that they had named her Sophia, which made me smile through my tears. I hope he’s still happy and that his family is thriving. Oh and that he still has the gigantic purple bong that always made my head explode.

As I read back on all I just wrote, I know exactly what he would say: “You’re such a drama queen, Baby.”

The distant echo of his voice in my head makes me smile.