Best Friends Forever

Two years ago, plans with my mom for her very first trip toEurope were in full swing. It’s hard to believe how fast the time flies. After that vacation in Paris – my all-time favorite city in the world, I thought it would be some time before I would be able to return and then something wonderful and unexpected happened. One of my very best friends, Josh, was relocated to the city of lights by his work. It was a dream come true, more probably for me than him, but a dream come true nonetheless. 

I first met Josh when I moved back to Boston for a brief period when I left San Francisco for the first time. It was the year 2000, I had been laid off, at a crossroads (one of many) in my life and I thought returning to the east coast was the answer. Despite how it turned out – moving back there brought me the best gift I could have asked for – a true friend that I could add to the few that I value so deeply in my life. At a party I somehow finagled an invite to – Josh was there with chocolate chip cookies and doling out his famous neck massages. We hit it off instantly, and shortly after, what I would soon discover was a very rare occurrence, he arranged a plan for a bunch of us to attend a sing-a-long Sound of Music night. One by one, the boys declined until there was only me. The two of us, instead, decided to meet for dinner in the South End, not far from his apartment.

And then the worry began. Would he think this was a date? Does he think I like him that way? And it was ironic that he was imagining the same thoughts and all through dinner, as we laughed and talked about I don’ t know what (probably about the two fat girls who were making life at my job unbearable - but that's another blog) – we fell instantly into a perfect friendship. 

From New Year’s Eve celebrations to nights getting drunk off our asses, to trudging through ten feet of snow to meet at Starbucks, the two of us were inseparable. I could not have asked for a better friend and when I made the decision to return to the west coast, I think he was afraid that I would be gone completely. However, he soon learned one of my greatest traits – I stay in touch with you until I know for sure that what I put out there is never returned. 

From there, it was countless visits to San Francisco and then to Los Angeles for him and vacations back in Boston for me, where I took over his living room with my infamous “crime scene” unpacking. In all these years, we have missed but two New Year’s Eve celebrations together. Our disagreements have been few and famous – but always, we’ve emerged stronger and better friends because of it. He’s pulled me up from the depths of despair more than he knows and I think I’ve pulled his head out of the oven more times than he's had it in it. We laugh a lot together and when the Sambuca arrives, I know we've reached the point of no return.

Last year, when he had to cancel meeting me in Palm Springs for his first business meeting in Paris, I easily forgave him. And, a week ago, I booked my flight to my favorite city in the world to see one of my favorite friends in the world.

I always let him do the cooking.

This year, with the time difference between us, our emails are always waiting for each other in our respective mornings. On weekends; I have been just stumbling home when he is finishing breakfast. The texts between are us during those overlapping hours are for the record books. And, this May, when I return to Boston for my parent’s golden anniversary, he’s letting me stay in his condo. I will try extremely hard to not create a crime scene.

When I arrive in Paris, I can’t wait to show him my favorite city haunts – from the bars, to the restaurants that I adore to just a walk along the River Seine, I know we’ll talk about how a fateful invite to a party changed the course of our lives. Not a day goes by that I am not grateful for the true friends I have in my life. They make all the craziness and stress surrounding everything else manageable. And when I sometimes think that returning to Boston was one of the biggest mistakes of my life – I remember that had I not, I would not have met Joshua. And, just so you know,  going to Paris has nothing to do with that thinking - but it sure doesn’t hurt.

Are there drag queens like this in Paris?