It's been eighteen days since I found out that my dear friend Nathan took his life. It's been sixteen days since it finally hit me he was gone.
I met Nathan in late '97/early '98 randomly on AOL. We clicked. We hung out. We formed a bond in the outskirts of Los Angeles where it seemed that gays were few and far between, but with the Internet, we were much closer than we thought. Nathan and I would head out to VIP in Riverside for Beer Bust, despite the fact we were still 18/19; we didn't want to pay a cover to go out. I remember we bought an outfit to go to VIP, pleather pants and a shirt we bought at the Gap. We'd dance and dance, never realising the pleather would be the death of us. On the way home, we had the pants at our ankles, in winter, because we had become so overheated. But we had an awesome time and that's what mattered.
We moved on to other clubs. We made friends. He was always better about maintaining these friendships, as I was more misanthropic than he. But Nathan and I never lost touch, even when he was in New Orleans working for his uncle's law firm. I found out recently that his coworkers knew who I was, even though I had never met them or stepped foot in the law firm's offices.
I could honestly not talk to Nathan for months, years even, and when we would talk, it was like no time had passed. When I found out about his father, then his mother passing, I reached out. I went to his mother's memorial and it was beautiful. He was there, he was smiling, yet still grieving. I hugged him, I told him I loved him and we did a shot, and that made the world seem so much better.
Nathan never eluded to what he was going through- losing his father, then his mother. I know that a month ago, I was sitting at my bar and someone played "Silver Spring" by Fleetwood Mac from the live album The Dance, and I immediate thought of Nathan as we would drive to Buena Park blasting that album on the way there. I sent him a text telling him how much the song reminds me of him and he replied "Silver springs is a great old song" Stevie Nicks, The Dance... Haha hugs." Nathan never told me his struggles; he never told me the demons he was fighting. That was his how he rolled. I wish I could just talk to him some more and let him know that it gets less surreal, but I can't. I hate his hasty selfishness, but I know he's at peace, and honestly, it's what's best for him. And with that, I shall continue to remember that soul that touched my life and forever changed it for the best.
I don't know if I can listen to "Silver Spring" yet. But if I do, I'm honestly going to take my fucking time and remember that magnificent son of a bitch.
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