The Boy I Could Never Love

^<*New Chapter*>^

Understanding how my condition held me back launched efforts at closing the gaps. My broken and scattered past drove me to reconnect with more and more people. Each provided useful tools, however, none prompted my memories to resurface. With large portions still missing, recovery appeared unreachable.

The memories that did come back continued to center around my friend, bringing the search for him to begin again. A good amount of time had passed since the last attempt at reaching out, and I did not know what would happen when and if I found him. With a little leg work and determination, I located someone I felt certain could likely get me in touch with him.

After many agonizing weeks, and a few rewrites, I reached out to them. The response came immediately. They said they could indeed direct in the direction of the person I was looking for. I soon learned my friend was sitting right beside them when I messaged. Within minutes, he looked me up, sent a message, and we started chatting.

With everything we wanted to say, typing just wouldn't cover it. We ended up on video chat, and I got to see my friend for the first time in twenty years. Eager to tell me what he'd done with his life, I found the things he experienced fascinating. So much so that I didn't even notice when his stories monopolized our conversation.

An hour and a half later, we hung up, and the dam in my head exploded. Memories flooded out from my past over the course of the next twenty-four hours, and soon after, more chapters found their way into the story, some including nothing to do with my friend directly. Turns out of all the people from my past, he alone held the keys to unlocking nearly everything my mind protected me from. Since that conversation, my connection with my friend has summoned a collection of new memories each time we talk.

For any who are wondering, my friend and I did not get together and contain no plans to do so. He is happily married, and I have my family. I still love my friend, and my wish for whatever makes him happy never saw an end. Yet, I came to view my love as that of a brother and not a lover.

Being flooded with unrealized thoughts from the past made it hard to identify where my love came from. Further, the question of how remained unanswered when my feelings from the restored remembrances left me raw. The idea that these new emotions are not necessarily what I am feeling took a while to come to terms with, and they often get confusing.

In the course of a conversation, I keep finding myself lost in our history. My thoughts tend to make it hard to bring me back to the present. My friend knows of my struggles and is very supportive. He may not understand what am going through, but he finds it neat that we are talking after all these years, and I'm just glad to call him my friend again.

While I work through the things that surface, our reconnection delivers new understandings of my life and updates will frequently find their way in and throughout this story. Most of the things I needed to remember I feel have already returned. However, I am frequently surprised when more resurface. Whether they come from the things we talk about, then or now, or something else, I can only speculate. Regardless, the process of retrieval started primarily after reconnecting with my friend.

Standing at the advent of the person I wish myself to be, produces yet another cause to feel grateful. As more happens in my life plans to begin a new narrative get underway. It's funny how all I ever wanted in life was for my friend to find happiness; I never thought he would become the reason I raised the first stones to mine.