In my city life, my usual evenings are about catching up with friends. A I haven’t seen you in a long time dinner. I would rotate every few months targeting the friends that I would never see in any other circumstances. 4 weeks have passed since we have seen each other? Time to ping him.

And so it went for the first year of my urban lifestyle. But there was one friend whose company I enjoyed. He was interesting and provided a perspective that at the time I thought was mature. Not to mention, he would always bring me to interesting restaurants.

But we always discussed change in our personal lives. He always talked about how much he hated something. And for over a year, he stated his opinion of people I knew in life. Obliviously, I overlooked it. I kept initiating our meetups—sometimes awkward, but I was compelled to do so almost as if I had signed a contractual agreement.

One day, he brought up his opinion of someone I knew very well.

As he throttled down Gough in the Red Toyota Scion, he turned to me, “I don’t know why you’re still around.” He painted a picture of reasons and potential strife. At first, I provided defense. As we crossed Market, I swallowed my pride in his growing louder comments. As we turned left into Valencia, I became silent, letting him take over. When he dropped me off at my apartment, I thanked him profusely for driving me. He suggested Santa ramen next time. I nodded, thinking perhaps…next week would be ok. I would be available then, I think.

I’ll call, I said with a sudden fleeting earnest. It has been 5 months to the day and I haven’t.