I wrote about a dear friend of mine about a year ago, his name is Michael. No, not my amazing blogging friend Michael, a different one. We used to be friends for years. We used to be really, really close. But we lost contact and we went our separate ways. No fighting. No funny business. We just lost touch with each other. I suppose it needed to happen. Some things just come to an end. We didn't exactly fight it or anything.
I didn't mention it on here... but I saw Michael again, a couple of month ago, at a club. Seriously, one of those rare night that I go out to a club, dancing and partying with friends, and I end up bumping into random people, like him. One minute I was dancing, the next I was in his arms and he was dipping me low to the ground. I almost punched him, to be honest. I was single, of course, and having anyone doing that to me was a far cry from normal.
It was nice seeing him, though he had changed somewhat. He wasn't really the Michael I remembered. Either that, or I didn't know what a douche he was back then. He went and got me a drink and we did a bit of catching up. He is in a relationship, has been for a long time, but the girlfriend wasn't out with him. He was out alone, with his friends, flirting with other girls. In that sense, he hadn't changed much. Later that evening, he asked me if he could come home with me because the friend whose house he was supposed to spend the night at, dropped him. I said yes, of course. I'm nice like that. I asked my mother and she didn't have much of a problem either. What bothered me, was that he really wanted to go home once I had said it was okay for him to come over. I didn't think too much of it, though. But of course, when we got home, he pushed me down on the bed and tried to get romantic with me. He started kissing me and touching me. I pushed him off of me, without much effort as I'm sure he was drunk, and confronted him. What was he trying to do?!
His answer? He missed me. He missed the way it was and the things we did. He missed being with me.
He has a girlfriend that he shares a home with. He's 'committed'. But he wants me? I wasn't falling for it. I tried reasoning with him. I even made him coffee and tried talking to him. We talked alright, but he couldn't keep his hands off me. He tried to jump me every chance he got. He didn't stay very long after that. His friends started phoning him and asking him to come over, and I let him go. Thankful that I didn't need to be the mean one and chase him out of my house when 'he has nowhere else to go without driving 60km home', even though I wanted to do it, badly.
Thinking back... he's changed yes. But he's still the same lying, cheating scumbag that he was back then. I loved him, as a friend loves another, but he really wasn't a nice guy to the girl's in his life. The ones who weren't just friends. I had perks. He had perks. I got Michael, without the issues, and vice versa. It's terrible to think of, but that's what it was. We didn't 'cheat' on each other, we didn't hurt each other, we were just there. Friends. I wish I could have done more to make him a better person, but I tried, I remember that. You can only lead a donkey to the water... you can't make it drink. Horrible truth.
It's amazing how you can see a person through rose colored glasses for so long... and then one day - it's like the bubble pops and it's gone. You come to grips with reality. Nobody is perfect.