whattya say, old friend,
are you okay, old friend,
are we or aren't we unique?
New friends pour
through the revolving door
maybe there's one that's more
maybe there's one that will do
but us old friend
what's to discuss, old friend
Here's to us,
Who's like us?
-- Stephen Sondheim, "Old Friend" from Merrily We Roll Along
Jud and I met in the first grade and fell in love. He was my best friend and romantic interest from first through sixth grade, and gave me my first maple-syrup tasting kiss in fifth grade, standing in the street on under the dogwoods. When he tried to put his tongue in my mouth I thought that was the most perverted thing anyone had ever thought of and figured it was just Jud's own unique invention.
He went off to private school in 7th grade and we kept in sporadic, torturous touch over the next six or seven years.
I tracked him down about 7 or 8 years ago when I lived in Maryland and we had long, crazy phone conversations, and then we stopped talking again for a few years.
He just called from Florida and we talked for about an hour. He's still nuts, he still remembers far too many details of things I've said and done, and he still feels like someone I can trust with my soul. And he's just as emphatically single as I am. We figure we should have married back when we were six and we'd be a comfortable old couple by now, and not so sot in our ways that we're probably unfit for cohabitation with anyone ever again.
I'm so glad he called. Now I don't have to have bad dreams anymore where I can't find Jud and wander around crying. I don't like not knowing where he is. I always have to know where Jud is in the world.