my best day of 2013, best moment that day

My best day of last year was January 28, 2013. A now-former friend came over to my place after having refused to come to my home, a refusal that had hurt me deeply, for a long time. I made soup. It turned out to be one of my tastier batches. I got the broth just right; spicy, savory, warming. The cannellini beans had simmered for hours so each one was flavored with that perfect broth.

First we just hung out and talked for about an hour. Then we ate. Then we walked to Moe's, a used book store in Berkeley. This man had sold 25 cartons of books to Moe's when he moved from Oakland into his parents' home in San Francisco. He deliberately hid the fact that he was moving from me. That hurt a lot. And he would not tell me where he lived for eight months. By the time he told me, my hurt had cut me so deep that I didn't get over it. I am not over it still. He was professing unshakeable love for me while moving in secret. Who hides a move from a friend they profess to love? Yep, it still stings.  He took store credit because Moe's gives you more 'money' in store credit than they give you in cash but he still had, and probably still has, a large credit at Moe's. I had suggested we go to Moe's and maybe I'd buy a couple books, give him the cash, convert at least some of his credit into cash for him. I didn't really want any books. I was being loving towards someone I loved.

I bought two poetry books. One was the Complete Works of Marianne Moore and the other was a fat Works by Robert Frost. I don't really like Frost but when I first knew this guy, he had quoted Frost to me a few times. I thought he admired Frost and I thought I might give Frost a shot based on this guy's favorable impression. With tax, I spent about $28. He bought some books.  It was warm in Moe's, cold outside and it felt great to be there, anywhere, with him. Buying those books was pure gift to him. I paid him cash. I bought them because he had grumbled about Moe's giving more in store credit than in cash. I paid him cash to help him get some cash for his store credit. I bought those books because I loved my friend, so it was an act of love.

The best moment:  on the way to Moe's, as we walked along, both of us happy just to be with one another, walking up Bancroft with book browsing ahead of us. A simple, happy time. A few times, we were almost dancing or skipping, for we tipped and bounced in our happiness, our simple happiness to be walking with one another.

Suddenly he pulled back his jacket, placed his thumb in the waist of his slacks to show me the slacks fit and he said "See these pants?  They had gotten too tight. Now they fit again because I've lost so much weight."  I had done a similar thing the last time I had seen him. I had worn a pair of dress navy slacks, my only pair of dress slacks, actually, that I had not been able to put on for years. When he pulled out the waist of those slacks, he leaned back, his blue eyes twinkling, joy sparking off of him. He seemed so happy. And I was so happy to see him happy.  I wanted to hug him, give him a kiss, but this friend never touched me so I never touched him.

After he had not, literally, touched me for a long, long time, I asked for a hug as he left from my sixtieth birthday lunch and he placed one hand on each of my arms for about two seconds, as if he was afraid I had something catching. He was stiff. It was not an embrace. It wasn't really a hug. It was the minimum touching a person could do to qualify for a technical hug. It was worse than if he had flat out refused to give me a hug but it would also been preferable to have been refused than to have received to cold, wincing, grimacing touch.

Last January 28th, when he joyfully showed me some pants fit that had been too small for awhile, I was happy. A sweet, simple happy. Just being with him, when he is not being mean, makes me feel at home. He is my anam cara for sure.

I am glad to have that memory, of him throwing back his upper body to thrust out his newly smaller waist, show off the also-nice slacks that he, like I had, had hung onto because they were good slacks so he kept them even when they got too small. Just in case.

It was a perfectly happy moment. Is such a moment worth the deep pain I am in now that he broke off our friendship?  I'm not sure.

I am sure that I am very glad to have the memory of that evening. I was in the golden tunnel. So happy just to be near him.  I am afraid I'll never find such moments again with anyone. I am afraid no one will ever be as wonderful as he can be. He's not always wonderful. He has a maddening tendency to be imperfect, the impediment of his perpetual Grail King wound.

I have that evening. I have that pants moment. I have the happy light in his eyes as he showed off his weight loss in the pants that fit anew.

Thank you goddess for small graces.

I wish everyone could know a person with this man's magical specialness. He is not always magically special. Sometimes he is a wounded Grail King and sometimes he is a bit of a dick. When he is in radiant mode, being with him is to know heaven.  I knew heaven on Jan 28, 2013. it is hard to accept heaven is gone for good.

I believe this man is one of my Anam Cara, a meaningful soul friend but he hasnot shown me friendship. Friendship includes trust and nearly every time he has ever talkedk to me, he has said he fears and distrusts me. We can't besoul friends without trust.