Forging Ahead

Ours was a friendship struck up from proximity, two edges bumping up against one another until their grooves ran in the same direction. It wasn’t until months later that I noticed our mutual bruises.


You had been wounded years before and sought to even the score by reminding everyone of your maleness. Like a cat marking his territory, you claimed me. You pawed at my back, scratched a hole through my heart and left me bleeding.

I would pass by your office on the way to mine and we would chat in spare minutes. Then we both frequented the same karaoke bar each Thursday. Mumbling our reality, we rarely had real conversations, just drunken fumbling. Even with my boyfriend there, I cast longing stares in your direction. I used you as an excuse to escape from a prison cell of my own making.

Together, we tested waters warm and cool. We noted the results as we went, always talking and holding hands at the most awkward moments. We shared kisses like little tokens or trading cards swapped between sentences, and once or twice we shared a mattress.

You were the thinnest man I have ever loved, and yet I still couldn’t see through you. If I could go back, there are so many more questions I would ask. You warned me against my wedding when that warm summer came so suddenly, but I blindly forged ahead past you. I have been looking back ever since.