You were clearing out a drawer for my trivial belongings. I was spending a lot of lovely days and nights in your apartment. Casual-friendly you offered me the key to your place. I was taken aback, and although I didn’t give an answer at this time, I understood why you had asked. I was leaving clothing behind and even left shower slippers. And you even went on to buy me tank-tops, a big package of shower caps and a purple toothbrush.
I know how it looked like to the critics outside. I know what your friends say about the privileges you were giving me. I know my friends reacted as if you were making me into your live-in wife. I remembered when you came with me to visit my ill mother – it was your idea – and she told me and you at separate times how much you adore me. Only a few knew we didn’t sleep in the same bed.
However, we knew the truth. We were friends. We drank coffee all day and ate all night. We rode local streets to the gym and bridges on hefty bikes. We rode the pale white of the moon. We rode the orange out of the sun. We were two loners coming together to feed the soul of one another. And in a single moment of fun, and of building memories – a happy accident occurred.
The skateboard slipped from under me quick as an apparition. My foot became caught underneath my bodyweight on the other foot and as I fell backwards I heard a pop that came from my ankle. I felt something in my lower leg shift out of place just when the whole world went mute. I knew I couldn’t get up and walk away from this. And if I may add – the sudden anger which consumed me at the price I paid for fun.
It didn’t seem like coincidence anymore. Not the DVD player I brought over a few weeks prior nor the brand new shoes I bought and never wore. They stood in your apartment, ready and waiting, just like the drawers. One empty drawer came to be three and an entire closet too with shelves made its home available to me. Now I had the key to your apartment and the key to your bedroom without any of us asking the other. I have night tables by my side filled with poetry books, vitamins, foot powder and other personal items. Everything was in pending and now we sleep on the same bed.
Who knew I was going to need major assistance with my broken ankle and surgery. Who could have predicted I wouldn’t be going back to my place because of old buildings and their beliefs of zero elevators. Who knew that the friend I became close with these past years who was my manager a decade ago – would be the bestest person to care for me as if I were one of his children.