magic

There's a certain kind of luck that old friends bring.  I like to think of it as the luck that was present when you first met them, and whether you knew it or not, that person was going to play an important part in shaping your life.  My hypothesis is that this luck is always there when you meet someone special, and it reveals itself many times throughout your friendship.

Yesterday was like magic.  But before I talk about yesterday, I have to (briefly) describe how we got to yesterday.  When I still lived in North Carolina and started first ever serving job at a little place I like to remember as Hell, I met this strange, complex, and beautiful soul, Barbara.  Because I'm horrible with specifics, all I can really remember at this point is naturally gravitating toward her.  She was a dancer, and we would teach each other silly combinations in the kitchen and tempt fate by dancing hardcore on wet floors.  I soon came to see that this is how Barbara lives her life.  She seems to live a life of dichotomies, constantly pulled from one end to the other: between reckless and balanced, innocence and wisdom, happiness and blue periods.  What's truly beautiful about her, though, is her ability to almost always keep peace within herself through it all.  It is because of this that she's an inspiration to me.

Barbara and I decided, oh a whim, to live together.  She was with me during the most challenging year of my life, and I credit her as the catalyst for so much of my growth.  As she reminded me yesterday, I was stubborn and refused to really let much of her advice sink in, but once it did, my life would never be the same.

And we have a challenging friendship.  For instance, the girl almost burnt down our entire house while trying to fry sweet potatoes while I was on vacation.  She tried to fix the pull-down attic staircase without virtually any tools whatsoever (like a saw), and ended up making it look like a place where we were hiding horrible secrets, like dead bodies or some shit.  I randomly flipped the fuck out on her one time for having a girlfriend and being too into her and not into me.  Yeah, there have been some tough times, but like I said - it's that inner peace that helps get us out of those crazy moments.  I'm still working on attaining it, but I'm getting there.

More than anything, we help each other out when it comes to love and relationships.  And at this point, we're both single and trying to navigate what happens when two people who are normally codependent fly solo.  She moved to Philly earlier this summer, and here I am in New York, and she came to visit me yesterday!

We were supposed to wake up early and go to the beach, but Barbara fell back asleep before I could give her directions.  Typical.  When she finally came to, I met her in Brooklyn and we headed over to Manhattan for some sightseeing.  I took her to the High Line, my new favorite park.  And this is where the magic begins.  We get stopped by a gorgeous man making a documentary about dreams.  So, we became movie stars and shared recent dreams that we've had.  She talked about the dreams where she has sex with another person while she's dating someone, and ends up feeling guilty in real life for days and days afterward.  I talked about the dream where my brother got shot in the head by a shotgun by a guy who's date I rejected.  Yeah.

We went and got lunch at a place in Greenwich Village that was a $14 brunch special with all you can drink Bloody Marys.  Barbara is a master Blood Mary maker, and used to make them for me all the time.  Again, fucking magic.

Then, we decide that the beach idea was really good, and we should still pursue it.  So, we head back to Long Island to go night swimming in the Atlantic Ocean.  For some reason, when you name the ocean you're swimming in, it just sounds better.  More magical.

We rush our asses home, go buy a cooler, pack said cooler with Rolling Rocks and get on the Ferry to go to Fire Island.  We arrive just as the bars and clubs on the island are coming alive.  We, of course, have no interest in the clubs, and head straight to the beach just as the sky is a mix of every color on the ROY side of the rainbow.  And then, there's the moon.  The full moon, lit up red from the reflection of the night's sky.  Magic.

The water, to our surprise, is warm and comfortable.  For the first time ever, I got naked and went in the ocean.  Of course, I held onto my junk for dear life because even in the dead of night, I know nobody wants to see that.  And we went swimming.  We rode the waves, which were huge, Barbara kept yelling to watch out for sharks, and sand got in places that it never should have gotten into.

As we conquered every bottle of beer we brought, we talked, laughed, stared at the impossibility of the moon's beauty and the reflection it creates in the water.  We went for a walk, explored the island, and got bit by millions of bugs.  But everything was fine.  It was the most spontaneous I've been in a while, and it was wonderful.

My favorite part of the entire day with her was, during our exploration, we stopped in at one of the gay clubs.  Barbara is not really one for dancing at gay clubs.  It must have been the magic, because she got up on stage and danced her little ass off.  It was easily one of my favorite moments with her: watching her dance so free on that stage.

Earlier in the day, I told her about how sad I was recently when looking through pictures of irresponsible moments throughout college.  I worry that as life becomes more 'professional,' such adventures and mischief will fade along with my youth.  Barbara assured me that silly people, like her and I, would never be at a loss for mischief or fun.  And, if I lose everyone else in the world who doesn't want to be ridiculous with me, I'll always have her.

We decided to catch the Ferry home, and as we waited in line, one of the finest men I've ever seen stood in front of us.  He turned around and started talking to us, and was clearly interested in something.  He was picking up what I was laying down.  You feel me?  We talked, he lives in the Bronx, and I wondered for a second how this shit happens to me, and kinda fell under his spell.  I don't know if it was the beer, the saltwater, or the moon, but something had me.  He sat next to me on the Ferry home.(!)  Magic.

Barbara and I returned home, and I read some of her poetry.  And that's when I started thinking about the luck that I was talking about earlier: how lucky I was to be sitting here, at this particular point of my life's journey, reading stunning work by a girl I met working at a horrible restaurant.  The luck that she brings me, meeting gorgeous men, starring in documentary films, shedding my dignity to swim naked, to forgive.  And as I tried to find words to describe the dynamic of our friendship, the only way I could describe this luck, this friendship, is magic.