Yesterday evening, when I came home from work, The Roommate was waiting for me. "I've been waiting for you. I'm starving and want to go eat freaky food. I'm paying. Are you coming?" Is that a rhetorical question? Of course I'm coming. Me pass a free meal? Unheard of.

So we go to one of our favorite restaurants that specialized in vegetarian and Middle Eastern fare. We order an appetizer and our dinners and telling each other about our days at work. I'm facing the front window and door. I look up and see D walking toward the door.

"Of course," I say with an exhausted sigh.

"What?" The Roommate asks but she already knows the answer.

"D's walking in." For some odd reason, every time The Roommate and I are at this restaurant, D is either already there, or shows up after we do. It's happened so many times, it's just a joke to us now. "Great," I say. "Is every person I've had a falling out with going to show up here tonight? Look around the room. Is T here? What about K? She hates me. Maybe she's sitting at the bar."

In a bizarre way it is kind of funny. This restaurant is where D and I met. We met through a mutual acquaintance. A girl he knew in high school was someone I knew when she was in college. We had heard about each other from here. After I moved to Arizona, she told me he was moving there too. Eventually, I called him to see if he wanted to meet. We met at a restaurant he liked and spent the afternoon together. After lunch we went to the library (we both liked books) and then a mall to walk around. It was a really nice day.

Soon we were fast friends. Exploring the city and meeting new people. D was really my first gay guy friend. My first buddy. We hung out just for the sake of hanging out. We shared our hopes and dreams. I came to love and care for him very much.

After a few years, things slowly changed. I changed. He changed. Yet we still clung to our friendship, not wanting to admit it wasn't working. We were suppose to be friends, weren't we? We tried to talk to each other about what was happening, but when one of us talked, the other didn't want to listen.

We ended up having a huge fight in the most cowardice of ways, via email. For a very long time, I was terribly hurt, not just by what we said to each other, but the way things went down. We deserved better from each other.

We hadn't spoken to each other in over two years.

Each time I would see him in the restaurant, my body would tense from avoiding him and purposely trying not to see him. I couldn't talk to him. I was still very hurt. I wanted to say something, but I was afraid it would come out wrong or we weren't ready and things would just worsen.

This time, I didn't care as much. The Roommate went to the restroom and I sat there thinking about the first time I came there with D. I remember that day and how much fun we had. I remembered all the good times for the first time in a very long time. Before, all I could remember was the pain and hurt or how it all ended. But now, I could remember how much we cared for each other and the good stuff.

While we were eating, The Roommate asked, "I've noticed you've been very open to eating different kinds of food." She's right. I used to eat only bland American food and that was it. Slowly over time I expanded my palette. "Why do you think that is now?"

I thought for a moment and said, "Because I am more open to it. I'm more open in general. I'm willing to try different things, whether it is food, meeting new people, dating, trying new experiences. I am just more...open"

After we boxed our leftovers and the check was paid, we got up to leave. I remembered what I read yesterday: "We can let circumstances of our lives harden us so that we become increasingly resentful and afraid, or we can let them soften us and make us kinder and more open to what scares us. We always have this choice."

Before I got to the door, I stopped. "You go ahead," I said to The Roommate. "I'll meet you at the car."

I turned and walked to D. He was sitting on a bench, waiting for his take-out order. He looked up and our eyes met. He both said "hi" and I sat down beside him. We made brief small talk. Just general pleasantries for a couple minuets. Then I said, "Well, I saw you come in and just wanted to say "hello". It was good seeing you. Take care." And I got up and walked out. It was a very bittersweet moment.

I felt the burden of my anger and fear leave me. Awful things were said, but it didn't matter anymore. I've always cared for him and always will. I know we won't be friends again, that's not in the cards, but just to have this weight lifted from me, was very freeing.

In the
book I am reading there is a quote by Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche: A fresh attitude starts to happen when we look to see that yesterday was yesterday, and now it is gone; today is today and now it is new. It is like that -- every hour, every minute is changing. If we stop observing change, then we stop seeing everything as new.

As The Roommate drove home, I watched the city go by. I saw the buildings and the cars. The streets and the street signs. I saw the people walking and kids on bikes. I saw the mountains and the skyline. Everything seemed a bit more beautiful than it did before. The browns, purples and oranges were more vivid. I watched them go by as we made our way home. I was blanketed by this feeling of peace and the newness of that evening.