I ran into the aforementioned Boy in De Longpre Park in Hollywood a couple of years ago. I didn’t smile upon seeing him. I didn’t think I needed to see him. He, however, did. He told me he’d been thinking about me and wanted to apologize. He said he’d tried to make me feel like a weirdo-freak because he’d felt intimidated by me because of “all those life experiences you had.” He said my past had made him feel inadequate about his. “Really?” I said, suddenly touched and surprised. It was unfathomable that he would be envious of anything I went through, since for me, part of the reason I worshiped him was because he’d had such a normal childhood, and came from what was undoubtedly a together family, his parents in a monogamous marriage and all.
His words made me feel light. Maybe I had needed to see him. I told him I was sorry for the crap I put him through too. During our relationship, for example, when conflict arose I’d shut down completely, my anxiety through the roof to the point that I simply couldn’t talk. I told him I’d since then gotten therapy, which had helped tremendously, among other things, and am writing a book. I told him we’d both been very young and had made mistakes. He said, “You knew and saw things at such a young age that I never did.”*
That’s when I took the opportunity to say, “Were your parents ever in an orgy?” We both laughed uproariously, a reenactment of sorts of the laughs we’d at one point shared, he being one of the funniest people I’d ever met, our good moments quite grand. With that we left each other feeling better than we had before. He back to the arms of his girlfriend, and me, to my Stanley whom I love so much.
*Boy’s dialogue has been paraphrased.