So what's to write about? Well, I don't know... I'm missing him already. We only met for a few hours, but it was nice... just like we were back then... ourselves. As our short conversation on GTalk was ending, my eyes turned moist. He hasn't really been in touch all these years, except when I repeatedly bothered him over emails and rare phone calls. But I know there's a bond. I know he'll be there for me if and whenever I need him. He might judge me, criticize my behavior, even yell at me if I act real crazy, but he'll be around in my hour of need. We haven't spoken about these things at length, but it's just this connection I feel in my heart.
We're quite a contrast--I'm short, plump (ok, fat!), and giggling-away-to-glory; he's very tall, skeletal, and always pretends to be serious (actually he's the one I'm giggling at!); but I
There's another thing common among this group of college mates. None of us got to marry the ones we were in love with, back then. We either broke off, or were made to break off (intolerant parents), or just gave up when the relationship went long-distance (moving to different locations for work and life ahead). R is the last of that set of people. The intention of his trip to India was to get married with his girlfriend of 6 years, but the same old story happened with him--parents not being ready to accept the relationship. One of them gave up and the relationship ended. It bothers me as much if not more than it bothers him. He underplays such significant events in life, and this time, I was torturing him with questions--hoping that he would open up and vent--no such luck, though. Anyway, hope he gets over it and has a better life ahead... I'm more concerned because he lives alone and has a social life, but not many "friends." I can't say it matters, because when it comes to really personal matters, I too don't share a lot with my friends, but it's always good to have them around. To know that they are in the same city and can spend time with you when you need it.
Ok, that's enough burbling. I'll be lucky if R reads this through the end. But it doesn't matter. I had to write. I had to do something to stop myself from brooding. And crying under the weight of all those memories. Love you, R. Hope to live closer to you some day. Because you're as weird as I am... a different kind of weird, but weird enough to be my bro.