The night I got the call my mom was dying, I went over to Will's place in Davis. He cooked me something simple and he coerced me to eat. When we laid down in his room to watch T.V, I asked if we could deviate from the usual AMC drama to watch something funny. He put on How I Met Your Mother. He didn't like it but he complied because neither of us knew how long it would be before I laughed again.
We had been dating a little over two months. While I was down there I told him that if he wanted to split, it was OK. Asking someone to hold your hand through the death of a parent is a pretty big thing, never mind for someone you hardly know. He didn't though.
He would leave, but it would be to teach English abroad. Through it all we remained friends. It's amazing how distance can almost keep you closer.
He is no longer a lover, but we retain this solid loyalty. We've seen each other through several different incarnations, and held hands through some remarkable points of hell. We've seen each other fight and conquer as well as discover and grow.
Tomorrow he goes abroad again, for an indefinite amount of time. In a weird way I will feel my heart stretch like it always does when one of us goes away.
But I'm also proud.
I'm proud that through the years the core of him is still in tact. He is still as stubborn as he is audacious. He is still curious and noble in his own quiet way. I'm looking forward to meeting the man he grows into, whenever that should be.
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