They say you don’t know a good thing until you lose it. They say we ponder alternate endings and question how much we embraced the person lost. They are right; it is all I am thinking of at this moment.
I close my eyes and remember his bright smile, full head of hair and hearty laugh, instead of the pain and fear he must have felt when he was brutally beaten and stabbed. I think of him – Adan Gonzalez, my friend and ex-lover – and ask myself, did I ever say I love you? Did I truly show you how much I appreciated your support, admiration and comfort? I hope I did because it is now too late.
I don’t know how to cope with losing someone whom I shared my body and soul. I don’t know how to cope with losing a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, an avid and supportive fan, a hang out buddy, and the only man I have ever been with who was still my friend. All I have is the memories and what ifs. What if I would have called him that night and asked him to meet with me? I almost did but decided not to. Would he still be here? I don’t know.
They say when a person’s number is called it doesn’t matter what the journey; the ending is the same. I hope they are right. I hope it was his time to be one of God’s angelitos and that he is watching me at this moment, as I write this with a heavy heart. I hope he, my loyal reader and friend, feels special and knows how much I love him. May you rest in piece, Adan.