twenty-something

Tom and I met towards the end of my first semester at UVM, way back in the Spring of 2000. We instantly became best of friends, eventually roommates, and, as we affectionately called ourselves, "gay brothers." We had many adventures together, on campus, in Burlington, in Montreal, and beyond. My UVM experience really didn't begin until I met Tom -- and those years were some of the best of my life.

We've had our ups and downs since we left school in 2003 and spent the week after graduation together in P-Town. We've largely been out of touch in recent years, but my move to Boston (he's in Worchester) promised a end to our estrangement. Sadly, that has not been the case.

Tom's been in the hospital since the end of August with pancreatitis, which I found out a few weeks ago. I was shocked and saddened when I got an email, but things sounded... OK. He was going to be OK. The details were sparce, but the prognosis was good. I mainly felt shitty that I had no idea that my old friend was so sick, that he'd been in the hosptial for two months and I didn't know, that two months had passed and I didn't even wonder why I hadn't talked to one of my best friends...

But it's not about me or our estranged friendship -- it's about him. And tonight, when I found out the extent of his ordeal, that became even clearer. His heart stopped. He was in a coma. He's lost a ton of weight and virtually all muscle. He can't move. He can't really talk and he's had a tracheotomy. Blood clots, feeding tubes, physical therapy... the details all came flying out. And it's all just... horrible. And I had no idea how bad it was until tonight. I found myself nearly sobbing at the thought of my vibrant old friend stuck in ICU for over two months, unable to talk or move, and with such a long road of recovery ahead. The bottomline, I had to know, was, "Will he be OK? Will he be Tom again?" And the answer was a vague "yes, that's the goal." Then I knew I couldn't play the "why didn't I know / I'm a horrible friend" song in my head anymore. That's selfish and not helping anybody. Good or bad, the past is past and, really, it's all about now.

I love ya, Tommy. And I promise to be a better friend from here on out. My thoughts and my prayers go out to you, buddy. I'll see you soon.