Tonight was a good night. When I walked into the bar I found my best friend. He was with a few of his friends. A couple of those guys have become my friends too. I ordered some food and a pitcher of Pabts.
My team was losing, 24-0. The chicken wings arrived and I had already poured half the pitcher between us all.
Within minutes, there were fumbles, sacks and several interceptions. The game had turned. The score shifted. We were coming back.
Before I left my apartment tonight, on my way to the bar, I tossed back a couple of shots. Tequila, of course. Another friend of mine.
Some friends you’d do better without, but you’d miss them terribly when they were no more.
My best friend will someday miss me too. He will miss me bad, the poor little fellow. I wish I could still be there to comfort him, to tell him it will be ok. But that’s not how those things work.
Or, I might not never leave him. Not never. But, again, that’s not how those things work.
I will wait for him in the darkness. I will pluck down the stars from the sky as I wait. And skip those stars that I grab, skip them across the surface of the seas.
One day he will be back with me. We will be back together again. Friends forever, no matter the score. No matter at all. Just he and I. Another good night to share. My team had won. And we had something to cheer about.