In the post

Fragments, like pictures drawn in sand:

We gave you a ride every day at noon; we dropped you off and picked you up, and we drove that loop along the dike and smoked cigarettes until we’d had enough to make it through our afternoon classes.

You let him take you to the prom, (after that other girl told him no) just as friends of course and then he fell in the 4B’s parking lot and everybody started calling him “Mad Dog”.

Waiting at your friend’s house for the two of you to get back and you never came and we all wondered where you were. You showed up and told us that she’d finally said yes to dating and we all thought “Thank God” since it was all you would talk about since spring.

When I stopped over at your house and the door was locked and you wouldn’t answer even though I knew you were home because the truck your dad was letting you use was parked on the street. You finally opened the door, your shirt was undone and you pushed me down the steps (or did I fall because I was laughing so hard?) because you were close damn it, so goddamned close to finally getting laid.

That first date when I asked your friend if she wanted to go out and he thought we should all go together and he told me what to wear so I didn’t screw it all up. We went out in his mom’s car and you made the buyer (everybody had a buyer back then right?) sit in the back with us, and your friend was so nervous that she told him she had a boyfriend in the state pen, and two kids at home with her parents. We all went down by the waterfall and made out in the moonlight and the crickets.

When we went up to the big city to get our tuxes for senior prom, and spent the day at the mall. I spent every last penny that I had on a pair of shoes that hurt my feet, and on the way back we kicked you guys out of the car and you had to stand outside in the rain while we were busy in the back seat.

We were in my girlfriend’s basement, about to watch Animal House when we got the call that they’d found the body, and we knew that that desk would always be empty.

That apartment that we shared when your parents were first splitting up and she was always around and you’d get pissed at me because I’d eat all of your food.

The time you came to Family Housing, wearing a suit (a suit!) and tried to interest us in an exciting business opportunity.

A letter in the mail, just the other day, telling us you were divorced now, but still friends.

The surf will come and wash those memories away I suppose, and someday the beach will be smooth when the tide runs out, but in the meantime, I still dream of you both.

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