My Improbable Friend

A funny light in the morning sky, reflecting in different ways off the storm clouds, makes it seem as if the sun were rising in the north. It's an illusion, I know, but it gives the city a sense of being someplace different. Perhaps this morning I'm really running through Helsinki, not Chicago. Just the sense of being somewhere ELSE is refreshing.

Sometimes I wish I knew what his deal is. Is he seeing someone else, now? Do I finally get to be that female friend who is the underlying threat instead of being the nervously possessive girlfriend? He's sick, but he comes to meet me at the tennis courts and then wants to see a movie. A walk. Says we'll go for a walk. Right. We sit on the lakeshore, watching boats and chatting. And you know, the chat is good. We talk about siblings and parent and how I came out of mom's womb last and wrecked the joint. Maybe whatever cold medicine he's on has disarmed the system a bit - but I finally got a sense of him. What is up with this man who still wants to do things together but still does not want to date? It's been over five months.

He falls asleep with his head on my lap. Asks permission first, but puts his head on my lap. Out of instinct I rub his head and shoulders. I feel a hand go between my legs in familiar acknowledgement. There is the last vestige of our affection in one bizarre moment of physical ease. Sometimes we're just silent. And silent is ok. I hugged him goodbye at the end of the day, genuinely grateful for the time together.

Part of me wants to know, to squeeze some sense of the future out of this. But there's no sense. It was just one day in the sunshine. And for today, he is my friend. Funny, I don't think I ever really knew what that was like. Ghosts of affairs past drift through my mind and while I wish them well, I do wonder where they are. But for today, he has survived and he's here. My improbable friend.