The Spiritual One

I stayed home. I thought, if you can't take a day off when your best mate dies?. I could hear Tom's voice, What? You didn't even take a single day off from the job you hate when I fucken died?

Tom's dying wish would be for me to resign today.

I don't understand, Tom would say, You go to a job you hate to pay off a huge fucken house that you could never need? Give the job up Chris, it makes you unhappy!!!!

That's what I was thinking when David looked at me first thing this morning and asked, Are you still feeling sad? I'd just read Abby's email, as it turned out. It made me cry.

Tom would laugh. It is the exact reason why Tom never liked David that much.

He's the spiritual one? Tom would say.

Spiritual? It's funny when I think about it. I've made three really great, cool, left of centre, amazing friends in my life. Fergus, Anthony and Tom. (Technically, Anthony isn't dead and one day I might write about him. Too many drugs in the nineties. Schizophrenia is such an ugly word. I don't see him, he might as well be dead.)

Fergus died of AIDS. Anthony went mad. Tom lost to cancer.

Cool, smart, thinking, interesting, good looking, funny amazing friends, the kind a person usually only gets to meet one of, once in his life.... Okay, I met them, I won them over with my personality, humour, whit, whatever... the point is, that's the hard bit, isn't it?; heading out on my own into the big wide gay world, I met them, connected with them, befriended, loved, found my tribe! I did the hard bit, didn't I? Well, now...

...they can all stop, fucking dying, thanks very much!

I'm sick of it now.

I look at my friends and can't help thinking, But I've lost the really best ones. Is that terrible? I feel like I've been left with everybody else.

I hugged Mark and Luke when they left the other night, like I never want to let them go.