Tuesday, March 24, 2009
When friends go missing
I "met" my boy T in 2003. I believe we connected through one of the AOL gay chat rooms. Given that I had not met any quality males at that time, it was cool to have a "friend" to talk to periodically. He was about five years older than me, but he never behaved in a paternalistic manner. What made T special was that he was educated, insightful, and encouraging. I absolutely loved his Caribbean accent; he was from the island of Anguilla. The fact that he lived in Massachusetts didn't diminish the quality of our friendship at all. On days when I felt hopeless, helpless, and every other emotion that characterizes the depression I was experiencing, he'd gently remind me that I was a person worthy of experiencing love. Over the years, we developed a wonderful friendship. It was a special occasion when we finally met in May of 2007.
T flew to Baton Rouge and helped me celebrate my graduation from LSU. I remember picking him up from the airport. Finally being able to put a face to that professor-like voice. T was very comfortable with himself. He, unlike me at that time, did not allow his sexuality to overshadow more important areas of his life. He simply LIVED. When we went to Chelsea's to listen to a brass band, he had the nerve to talk to the guy (the trumpeter) I couldn't keep my eyes off. At the gay club -Splash- he talked to guys who I'd only admired for a far. T had swagger that I'd never seen in a gay man. Interestingly, he had a "date" arranged by the time he stepped foot in the state. Meanwhile, I'd only met one guy in the two years I was in Louisiana.
T wasn't able to stay for the entire duration of the ceremony. I remember him waving to me as he exited the auditorium. The guy who he'd met had agreed to drive him to the airport. He called later that evening and let me know he'd made it home. When I moved back to Georgia and had to deal with the unexpected death of my beloved step-father, he was a constant source of encouragement. We'd usually talk at least once a month. Even though he traveled extensively, especially during the summer months, he'd always call me when he returned. When he was visiting family, I knew he'd be unavailable. How I looked forward to hearing about the events that had transpired.
About a month ago, I tried calling T. Accustomed to hearing his voicemail message, I was shocked when I heard an automated message stating that the subscriber was unavailable. Day after day, I called and got the same message. Last week, the message said the call could not be completed as dialed. I've googled him and thought about contacting the school he was attending. As T is a very responsible man, I'm concerned that something terrible may have happened. I don't know what to do. I miss my friend. For now, all I can do is periodically look at the graduation gifts he bought me: an engraved clock which I've never used, a card that's still on my dresser, a book of inspirational verses, and a black shirt that has a naughty message written on it ("Overworked and Underfucked!").
I really hope he's still alive. However, in the event that we never communicate, I can honestly say that my life has been enriched because of his patience, guidance, and love. I love you, T.
P.S. I couldn't find the video I wanted, so y'all will have to "settle" for this one. While T and I were not in a relationship, the song's title is appropriate.
"I Miss You," by Klymaxx