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An Introduction

As of late, I have been doing more and more writing. At first I found it to be therapeutic, afterward, I found it to be a nice hobby and a cool way of spending time. Now, I find myself gravitating towards a novelist approach to writing. Doing it more frequently and with a bigger scope than ever before.

I suppose an introduction is in order, if I am to tell stories about myself. My father wanted to name me Nathaniel, my mother favored a shorter name and wanted to call me Nate. A concession was made and they decided upon Nathan. I grew up in Tallbeth County a large rural town with a minuscule population in the outskirts of New Nycan, a big metropolis where the youth of Tallbeth County move to when they're of age and want to pursue college education, as I did, or better employment options than our rural town could provide.

I had been going through communications college and working as a language teacher for almost a year before my emotions got out of control and I found myself unable to carry on with my life, which prompted me to seek out professional help. A psychologist and I have been working on a better version of me, who's more stable and more in touch with his feelings and expresses himself more, which is why I have started writing short stories and personal experiences (some of which you may already have read if you follow my blog).

These stories I have been writing featured different protagonists than I. They were my friends Bradley, whom I've known since we were in elementary school back in Tallbeth county, and Gavin, whom I've known for less than a couple months, but has earned a place among the few people I can comfortably call friend. These stories featured rather sexually oriented plots, highlighting their own experiences, traumas and lessons from past relationships. At first, they were eager to share their own stories and laughed as they did, but it took them a long while to coax me in sharing a story of my own.

Eventually, sharing stories became easier, and weirdly, a ritual of sorts, we'd reunite at the Night Owl Bar/Caffee every now and then with the sole purpose of sharing even more stories, not only sexual ones, but more earnest stories about our pasts, people we've met and people we almost got to date before fate intervened and send us in opposite directions.

One story that had come up was that of when I was still in my teens, ten years ago at least, of a friend I had back in Tallbeth county. Once I noticed Bradley and Gavin's interest at the mention of this friend, I knew I had to go and tell them the whole story of how we almost got to date, until fate split us apart.

Old Friends

Wallace may not have been my first friend, but he was definitely the one I shared most of my childhood with, so that'd make him my best friend, I think. We have known each other since before school was a thing in our lives, and that's good, because he's one and a half year older than me, so we wouldn't have meet through Tallbeth county's educational system at all.

Ever since we were young, Wallace's look was peculiar to me. He was a mutt and it showed. He had a thick build, droopy muzzle and an underbite that was particular to bulldogs, so his lower fangs were always poking out of his mouth, but he also had thin, pointy ears and a long muzzle almost like a doberman and, for whatever reason, he was always wearing a white cap with red highlights, that matched the same red that was the color of his eyes.

Growing up in a rural town has it's advantages if you're courageous and adventurous enough, Wallace and I would spend our childhood afternoons after school jumping fences and eating apples, blackberries and oranges off orchards from the neighboring farms. We'd spend raining days inside barns with farming machinery we had no familiarity with and sunny days swimming in small ponds that we'd discover and claim to ourselves with names of our own making. We rode the whole countryside in our small bicycles and promised to always be friends. These days of our youth were long and filled us with hopes and dreams, when the smallest of joys were the ones we'd grasp to the hardest and brag about the most. That's the life Wallace and I shared for years and years, until our more mature minds would set us to other devices.

Old Frank was what we called the not-so-old guy who owned a farm near Wallace's house, so that was our rendezvous point for beginning and ending adventures and explorations, where we would make plans for the day hidden behind bushes and away from adult eyes that'd pelt us with words of caution and limitations to our free spirits that wanted to see the whole world. On a particular day among the first ones of spring, when we were still young, we happened upon an injured butterfly. I vividly remember it's brownish wings with green splotches and markings here and there. One of it's wings appeared to be broken and we watched it struggle uselessly to take flight while writhing in the dirt. We carefully picked it up in our paws and carried it away to safety, into one of Old Frank's barns and started discussing what we could do to save the butterfly.

"I think it eats flies" I said, pondering how the both of us could nurture it back to health.

"I think it eats leaves" Said Wallace with a pensive tone, while holding the butterfly in his paws.

"Maybe we can look it up online?" I said, thinking back to the computer at my home.

"Yeah, let's!" Wallace replied, beaming with excitement and standing up while waiting for me to do so.

We walked towards my home, discussing about butterflies in general and the one we were trying to save. The walk back to my house was much longer than back to Wallace's house, but I happened to be one of the only kids around who had a computer and knew how to use it. My father was a metalworker with engineering ambitions. I remember our house being packed with books on all sorts of mechanical and electrical subjects, we also had dictionaries and encyclopedias by the volumes, one could clearly see how determined he was to attain knowledge, so it wasn't at all at odds that my father bought a computer back when they were very slow and did very little, so all it did before the millennium would turn and the Internet would become a big thing was to replace an old typewriter we had to type documents.

As I booted up a more modern computer we had, Wallace set down the butterfly gently on the desk and we went back to watching it writhe, without a clue of what we could do to help it.

"Don't worry, buddy, we'll help you get back to your family." Wallace was saying to the butterfly in a tender tone.

"Yeah," I chimed in, without anything to add at all, but not wanting to feel left out, "we'll help you."

"I am Wallace," he began saying, with a hint of pride in his tone, "you can call me daddy." He said, in a playful tone, then he pointed at me and finished "And this is Nathan, you can call him mommy."

"What? I don't wanna be mommy!" I protested.

"But that's how it goes! Everyone has a daddy and a mommy." He argued.

"But I don't want to be mommy." I repeated, feeling somewhat defeated without a way to argue back.

"Then you can be papa!" Wallace said promptly, beaming with excitement once again for having solved our parenthood conundrum.

"Deal!" I agreed, my innocent mind not registering the sort relationship we had agreed upon until much later in our lives.

Unfaithful Pervert

As we grew up, adventures in our hometown became less interesting and gave space to the exploration of other, more mature things in our minds. Both Wallace and I were teens by then, and despite his advanced age, we still hung out together, even more so than with our school friends. At the time, many of his relatives were moving closer and visiting frequently, so I found myself hosting Wallace in our house more and more often, as he'd try to escape the chore of spending time with his plethora of younger cousins by the third day in a row.

"Wow, I can't believe this!" cried Wallace, as a pin-up of a naked cartoon rabbit girl finished loading in the monitor.

I lazily turned my head towards him and my computer, muttering a bored "What?"

"It's Mary Bunny, from 'Space Ballers'! I can't believe they've drawn her nude!" He said, without even glancing in my direction.

I was laying in bed reading a comic book and after being interrupted yet again, I gave up on trying to read and sat down in another chair beside his. If he wasn't gonna let me read, then I guess I'll enjoy the badly drawn porn of cartoon show character that Wallace comes to my house to see.

"Dude, I can't believe this one!" cried Wallace once again after the next image loaded up, "It's Cash and Stacy, from 'Go! Go! Cash and Dash'!"

Occupying a large portion of the screen now were two characters, a cartoon male lynx holding up a cartoon female raccoon's leg up and his penis was going into her vagina while the couple made very exaggerated 'oh' faces. It wasn't particularly well illustrated, since the artist tried to copy the cartoon's art style but put a realistic take on their genitalia which left the picture looking not quite right aesthetically. However, no matter what my mind said about the inaccuracies between the drawing and real-life, I could feel a stiff disagreement in my pants. Right then and there I leaned forward, hunching down in my chair, pretending to look more closely into the drawing.

"Whooooa!" cried Wallace yet again, followed by a predictable "I can't believe they've done this!"

This time, the drawing was another poor rendition of Cash, the lynx, penetrating the raccoon girl in the front while his partner in crime Dash, the fox, penetrated her from behind. It was probably made by the same artist, since the mishmash of styles really stood out in it, but the heat in my groin and the feeling of my boxers growing tighter was a clear sign that my body disagreed. For a young boy, even misshapen representations of sex can look appealing, especially in these circumstances.

"Aw man! I can't believe this one!" said Wallace after opening another drawing, as if he was just flipping through the pages of a book, not really appreciating the 'art' in those pictures.

This new one had a very different premise than the previous. This was once again Cash and Dash from 'Go! Go! Cash and Dash', but this time the raccoon girl was nowhere to be seen. It was just Cash doing Dash up the butt, holding his partner in crime's leg up and stroking his red rocket. This drawing was done by a different artist and you could tell that a lot more care and polish went into this one, with a more well defined style and anatomy, their genitalia and expressions were much more well rendered as well. I found myself holding back an impulse to squeeze the bulge in my pants that by now was throbbing with excitement, whereas Wallace;

"Ahh! I can't believe this! They're jerking off each other!" cried Wallace as he opened up another image.

Once again, Cash and Dash, sitting down in a couch, side by side, stroking each other's penises. This was another artist altogether, with an inferior rendition than the previous, but by then I stopped paying attention to the illustration's quality, or lack thereof, and started to pay attention to how Wallace shifted in the chair, his tail swishing from side to side quickly and how he kept opening up similar pictures. Long gone was the time for females. Now, we stood there, side by side, looking at gay porn. Male cartoon characters having all sorts of sex in all sorts of positions with each other.

Wallace's cries of disbelief died down and were replaced by nods and mumbles of agreement as he went through the pictures. I could feel myself shaking, my arms crossed on top of my lap, my fists balled up, wanting to reach towards my friend and touch him. Let my fingers lay on his leg for a moment or two before going towards the bulge in his pants, and I know he had one cause I kept stealing glances towards it every now and then.

Growing up together, I always noticed that Wallace was growing taller than me, thicker than me, more manly than me. So I was always drawing comparisons between our bodies, but there was always this one place in our bodies that I could not compare, but now, I wanted to more than I could have believed possible.

I felt like he wanted to turn towards me, to tell me something, ask me a question, touch my body and have me touch his, but he kept opening up new pictures as the tension kept growing. It weren't meant to happen, though.

Suddenly we heard the noise of a car parking, which announced my parent's return. Wallace quickly closed the pictures in the computer while I ran back to my bed and shoved my muzzle down the comic I was reading, pretending that nothing was going on. It ended as soon as it began, that intimate moment between us, where we silently acknowledged each other's interest in sexual things, the same sexual thing on top of it all. After that, he went back home in the dark evening and I was left alone with my thoughts, my confused thoughts of sexuality and relationships.

For the longest time after that, I tried convincing myself that I wasn't gay or interested in males at all, dismissing Wallace's attempts to bring the subject up. I also started making excuses to avoid having him over to watch more porn in my computer and our relationship started fading as we started spending less time together and most of the time we did spend together was in silence, the uncomfortable weight of the subject hanging in the air and none daring bring it up.

Eventually, I finished high school and moved to New Nycan to pursue college and left Wallace behind, making up excuses in my mind for why our relationship deteriorated that quickly and trying my best to not look back upon it. A decision that I did regret for the longest time.

A Reunion

After some resistance, I finally gave in. I let Gavin and Bradley, but mostly Gavin, convince me into reaching out to my childhood friend Wallace and hang out with him, after not seeing him for more than five years or so, at least. It wasn't long after deciding to do it that I went and actually did it. I found his profile online and hit him up with text messages. To my surprise, he said he'd be taking the upcoming holidays to organize himself and move up to New Nycan. I proposed to have a small reunion of sorts and he somehow turned it into a self-invitation from me to help him with the moving. I agreed.

With my parents being out visiting my uncle for his wedding, I had nowhere to stay on my visit, so I decided to go on the day of the moving. I planned my trip to arrive there in the morning, hang out with him for a bit, say hi to his parents that I also haven't seen since forever, help him pack things up and return to New Nycan with him.

Unfortunately, everything that could go wrong did. Due to the holidays, there were fewer buses in town, so it took me extra longer to reach the bus station, at which I learned that an accident in the road would delay the buses several hours and lastly, as if by a cruel joke from the universe, I learned that the road stop near a gas station that I intended on using to get off the bus no longer existed. To my despair, I only managed to get off the bus in the next road stop, that was still in a big rural area of the town and at least a couple hours away from Wallace's house. I tried to call a cab to cover the remaining distance, but my crappy cell phone refused to work properly and when it did, it couldn't find signal. The only good side of it all was that with being in the middle of nowhere, I could yell "FUCK YOU!" from the top of my lungs and no one would be able to listen to me. However, I didn't.

Under the scorching summer sun at two in the afternoon, I started walking towards my old friend's house, seeing how much and how little the landmarks that young us would use to locate ourselves had changed. After walking for twenty minutes or so, a car slowed down beside me, the driver then put his head out and hailed me.

"Hey, do you need help?" The spectacles wearing bear asked.

"Ah, I'm going to the Greene's, I don't know if you're familiar with-"

Before I could finish, the driver threw the passenger door open and started beckoning for me to get inside. "Ah yes! Dear Martha and Peter! How could I not? Get in boy, I'll take you there."

The me that's been living in New Nycan for the past years would have denied him outright, but the younger me who grew up in Tallbeth county knew an honest Tallbetheer with a single glance. I simultaneously cursed and thanked the starts and got into his car, closed the door and fastened the seat belt as he accelerated and took of towards my old friend's house.

"Ah, Martha must be so proud of her boy, throwing him a party all and" the old bear said, annoyingly throwing glances at me instead of paying attention to the road.

"Party?" I said, in an inquisitive tone.

"Yeah, the boy's a big fag, or so I heard." He said nonchalantly as I froze in place, worried about where that conversation was leading to. "Didn't you knew?"

"I uh... no?" I said, meekly.

"What are you asking me for? You're the one who where always running around and stealing my apples with him." The old bear said, with a hint of grumpy nostalgia in his voice.

"Ahh... I'm sorry about that," I said, now scrutinizing the bear beside me and recognizing old Frank, who now was actually old, with some grey fur around his muzzle that wasn't there when I was younger, "if it helps, yours were the most delicious. The apples, I mean."

"Pah, of course they were. We've been growing them without pesticides ever since my grandfather tended to the soil himself, unlike the Bakers, they've been filling their asses up with these chemicals" he started ranting about agricultural practices and I didn't dare interrupt him at all, for I was glad the subject wasn't about my old friend anymore.

However, it did get me thinking; throwing a party? What that has to do with being gay? Did Wallace came out to his family? To the entire town? It had been so long since I've last seen him that I didn't even knew what was going on with him anymore. My mind wandered in these thoughts, my brain only half paying attention to old Frank's ranting, which lasted for almost the entirety of our fifteen minutes trip.

"But in any case, can you find your way from here?" Said old Frank, stopping his car at an intersection in the road. The familiar dirt road was still the same as it's always been, which warmed up my heart in a way I haven't felt in a while, especially today.

"Mhm-hm," I nodded, "Thank you very much, sir." I added, as I started to unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the car.

Before I could completely leave the car, he started saying "Hey, send Martha and Peter my regards, and Wallace too. Since you're friends, tell him to be careful around other guys, okay?"

I stood there, somewhat confused and lost, not knowing exactly what he meant by that, but I nodded again and waved my paw at him "Will do. Thanks again."

With that, he took off once again, this time without me in the car. I turned to face the familiar dirt road that lead up to Wallace's house, which was already visible in the distance. I started making my way towards it as my mind kept racing between thoughts; the excitement of seeing an old friend, the anxiety of not knowing how to react or what to say, the many excuses I was concocting as to why I was late and why I haven't been in touch.

No matter how much I wanted to simply say "I was crazy busy", we both knew the truth very well. I was never comfortable with the idea of coming out as gay. I tried to deny my sexuality for as long as I could, only to find acceptance and a welcoming environment once I did. Of course, I was lucky to run into such good friends and partners, but the thought of telling someone out loud that I was gay still frightened me. I found my mind already snuggling into the comfortable idea that I didn't have to tell anyone that didn't matter, it's not like everyone needs to know about it, right?

As I approached Wallace's house, I spotted the whole family in the front yard. Wallace's parents and some uncles and aunts by the entrance, a lot of younger cousins, and I really mean A LOT, running around a run-down pickup truck that was being loaded with boxes and furniture. Behind the pickup, tying everything up with a rope was he, the mutt with his characteristic underbite and a red cap protecting his face from the sun, what I didn't recognize at all was his tall, well built body and a long, thick beard he was sporting now. Feelings I haven't felt in a long while woke up inside me as I saw how much my old friend had grown up, how much he had matured.

"Nathan! My dear!" His mom cried out from the porch, throwing up her arm in a big wave. I felt a hotness across my face and tried to drown out a silly smile that was forming in my face.

"Hey." I shyly lifted my arm to return the wave, painfully aware of the gigantic crowd that was looking at me now. I looked towards Wallace and within seconds a huge smile formed in his mouth and he threw his arms open wide, hastily walking towards me to engulf me in a hug as he cried out "Nate!"

Before I could react in a proper manner that came naturally to me after years of being a city boy, I was lifted off the ground by Wallace's tight hug, all I could do was hug him back as he kept swaying me from side to side, pressing our bodies together as he declared happily "Nate! It's been so long, buddy!"

"Aww, is he your boyfriend, dear?" I heard his mom asking as Wallace kept me locked into the hug and my ears burn hot from embarrassment.

"Naw mom, I told you I'm single," Wallace said, letting go of the hug, but still holding me in place with his strong arm across my shoulders.

A moan of upset 'aww's echoed across the crowd of cousins and relatives watching us. I don't believe I could lower my head any further than it already was. Wallace held my shoulders and shook me as he grinned the way he used to do when we were young, "but who knows, maybe Nate can introduce me to some nice guys in New Nycan."

I genuinely spaced out for the remainder of the afternoon, focusing only on not being in anyone's way while fording through the horde of small cousins that ran around the house and the older uncles and aunts that were also talking loudly and excitedly about things I don't remember. I was by the car with my paws deep inside my pockets, looking to the familiar horizon when Wallace finally came to me to announce that it was time to leave.

I got into the passenger seat of the pickup and sunk into it as everyone cheered and waved at us, Wallace waved back at everyone, individually saying his farewells with a huge smile on his face, last were his parents, that actually walked to the car and talked directly to us.

"You be careful out there, and remember to call us if anything happens, okay?" His father told him in a stern tone.

"And please, take care of Wallace, okay Nate?" His mom said to me, a glint of apprehension in her eyes as she said so.

"Sure thing, I will, ma'am." I declared, nodding to her.

Wallace and I gave each other a quick glance and a nod before he started up the truck and drove off, leaving behind a cheering family and his childhood house.

The Old New

The car trip back home was anything but boring. We spent most of the start reminiscing and pointing out familiar landmarks, retelling the fantastical and unrealistic version of our adventures and explorations. Then, once I noticed, we were already at the highway, entering New Nycan by the west. Just as the scenery changed, so did the subject of our conversation.

"So, why did you decide to move to New Nycan?" I asked, thoughtful.

"Because I need a bigger crowd. I've done a few small performances back in Tallbeth, you know." He said, expecting me to know what he was talking about.

But I didn't. So I carefully picked my words to manage a "Cool. Where do you plan on performing then?"

"No idea," he said, weirdly hopeful, "I plan to meet new people there, make some connections, then I'll figure that part out. In the meanwhile, I'll keep doing some small shows in Tallbeth."

"Huh," I eloquently mumbled. Raising my eyebrows without noticing. "Welp, good luck with that, man."

"Thanks!" Wallace answered, beaming. "My parents have been really supportive of the idea too! So that's a big plus."

His statement picked my curiosity and I found myself saying "So you did come out to them, huh?"

"Aw yeah! They loved it." He had sort of a triumphant face as he said so. "They even invited the whole family to celebrate, even nana was there. Did you see her?"

I shook my head negatively, I was so embarrassed that I kind of went completely out of my way to avoid talking to anyone there. "That's cool. I'm glad they were okay with it."

"And what about you?" He shot back, "Have you came out to anyone yet?"

I tense in my seat. I start thinking up several permutations of my answers. Technically, I have told about myself to Bradley and Gavin, heck, they're the ones that got me into doing this to start with, but I don't think Wallace would like to know that he was not the first I've confided that fact to. I think about lying, but that'd be kinda obvious and besides, I can't bring myself to lie to Wallace. So I default to my over rehearsed parents bit.

"I uh... Never brought it up to my parents, but I think they know. It's weird, actually. Like, they know, I know they know, and they probably know that I know they know, but nobody brings it up ever. So that's where we're sitting with that one." I explain myself.

"That's sad... You should talk to them, I think." He started and I sunk even lower in my seat. Quietly nodding and mumbling my answers until eventually, I feel asleep.

***

"Hey, wake up, sunshine" Says a voice to my side as I feel a shove on my arm that jolts me awake.

I look around, but the dim lights makes everything look unfamiliar and uninviting. I turn to my companion, who's looking at me as if entertained by my confusion.

"Where are we?" I ask, looking towards Wallace, whose face only lits when we drive near a street lamp. He's smiling a sweet smile.

"Almost there, just a couple blocks away." He says, giving me quick glances as I adjust back in my seat. "How was your nap, Nate?"

"Good, good." I say, stretching awkwardly in my seat, trying not to knock anything accidentally. "Have I been out for long?"

"An hour or two. Only noticed when you didn't answer my question." He said, in earnest.

"Oh... Sorry, what was it?"

"I'll tell you later. We're here." Wallace announced and I looked forward, to see our destination.

The car slowed down to a halt, parking beside the sidewalk. The engine revving down to complete stop and the lights went out. We both unfastened our seatbelt and got out into the night. I look around and can't see a single soul on the streets. A glance at my cell phone tells me it's barely nine in the evening. Looking at the apartment building, I can see that almost all the windows are lit, except for one in the higher floors, and for a very particular reason.

"It's a quiet neighborhood at night." I observe

"Mhm-hm, let's get started?" Wallace asks, already hands deep into his boxes. I simply nod and say "sure" before going to assist him.

We both try to get a sense for the size and weight of the boxes before quickly realizing we won't be able to make it up in a single trip. So we start discussing strategies to bring them up more efficiently.

"Maybe we can throw a rope from the window and lift the boxes with it?" I offer

"Have you ever hauled things up and down through a rope like this?" Wallace inquires, with a bit of impatience.

"No...?" I reply, meekly.

"It's not that easy, lazybones. Come on, let's just take these inside first."

And so we did, unloading his truck and placing all the boxes in the narrow corridor that gives way to a small reception, elevators and a staircase. Then we start loading the elevator with as many boxes as we judge it can carry up and make our way towards the sixth floor while leaving behind other boxes he deems less important.

As I keep thinking about what might be inside these boxes we left behind, I notice Wallace's wide, underbite smile and his wagging tail.

"Heh. Someone's excited." I say, smiling back at him.

"What? Oh yes. I am!" Wallace says. The heavy box he's holding doesn't seems to impact his mood at all. "I can barely believe I'm going to have my own house! You're invited to come whenever you want, you know."

"I'll make sure to come visit when you're not moving anything, okay?" I say, half-joking, half-serious.

I feel like helping him move into his new house is an important gesture for our friendship, but the only reason I agreed so easily to do it is because I still feel guilty for disappearing on him for so long. Although I keep thinking that if I hadn't, we'd be so close, that I'd probably be having actual fun by helping him move.

As I grimace and let these thoughts swim in my head, we unload the boxes from the elevator into the corridor and we quickly pace down the corridor until his apartment door, boxes in hand. Wallace sets down his boxes to fish the apartment key from his pocket, inserts it on the lock, turns it to unlock the door and opens up the door to his apartment. The whole thing couldn't have lasted more than ten seconds, but Wallace was grinning and wagging his tail in excitement and anticipation all the while. I never really thought about how such a small thing could mean so much to someone.

Before I could let these thoughts settle in my head, Wallace was already in and out to pick up my boxes, so I stopped daydreaming and rushed to help with these, and then the rest of the boxes downstairs.

After three more trips, we manage to bring in the last of the boxes into his apartment and I stop to finally take it in. I start to look around and find, to my surprise, that the apartment tour takes around half a minute to do. I worry about how Wallace is going to be, living in this shoebox of an apartment, but I also feel like it has potential. I can definitely feel like Wallace can start a new life here and thrive.

We start unpacking the boxes and putting things where we can find space. His clothes and books remains in the boxes, but we move them to the small bedroom along with the other boxes Wallace instructs me to haul there. Most of the other boxes we carefully unpack in the kitchen. They're filled with electronic appliances and dishware, they seem used and scratched here and there, so I assume those were handed down from his parents or some other relatives.

The thought of Wallace, Martha and Petter's only son being so far away from his family takes my mind to a dark place again. I ponder and wonder about what my own parents are feeling, with me being so far and for so long, I make a mental note to call them, but I also know deep down that I probably won't. I keep mindlessly unpacking his boxes while these thoughts consume my mind until suddenly I open a box that stops me in my tracks.

Wallace has a plotted plant, I'm not sure what plant it is, but I think it's a flytrap. On the pot, there's a label that reads 'Hachemalahefestoplin'. Excitedly, I stand up holding the plant and run to find Wallace. Once I do, I hold out the plant towards him and announce as loudly as I can.

"Hachemalahefestoplin!"

Wallace pretends to be electrocuted for a couple seconds and then the both of us burst out laughing and for the first time today. I feel like we're back in our childhood, our happy days. I finally feel like we're close once again.

Alright, before it feels like I'm a loon, let me explain what that was all about.

In our youth, we'd have lots and lots of rainy days, so Wallace and I would stay indoors watching movies, cartoons and whatever else was showing on TV. We loved those juvenile adventure movies, with wizards, magic, ancient creatures and everything else, then, once it wasn't raining anymore, we'd run outside and let our imaginations run wild.

I remember grabbing a stick from the ground, striking a bush with it and yelling "Hachemalahefestoplin", which is a word I made up. A lot of bugs went flying and scampering from the bush and Wallace had this surprised face in his muzzle. I announced that I was a wizard and I zapped the bugs away. Then the both of us started to run wild with sticks, hitting bushes and coming up with different names for spells and magic tricks. Although that was the only one that stuck with us, and for the remainder of our youth, we'd yell that at each other randomly and the other would pretend to be electrocuted.

I know it's super silly. A children's inside joke. But it was our inside joke, and to see it resurface again after so long...

"Why did you name your plant that?"

"Why, cause it zap bugs, you silly." Wallace answered, smiling widely and taking the plant from my hands.

At that moment, I felt a rush of warmth going through my chest and tears forming around my eyeballs. I did my best to contain them and started to make my way back towards the kitchen, trying to conceal from Wallace the huge array of emotions going through me.

I successfully made my way back unnoticed and went back to organize the dishes, trying not to think about what just happened, but try as I might, I couldn't pretend it didn't happen. I couldn't tell myself that my best friend kept such a personal memento of our adventures, especially one that he's got after I was gone. I couldn't drown out my emotions and pretend that I wasn't moved by that gesture. I couldn't keep running away from Wallace.

In actuality, I could. I could deny everything, I could pretend it never happened, I could say goodbye and vanish once again. I could do all that, but I don't want to.

I want to go there and hug my friend. My best friend. I want to cry on him and apologize for vanishing. To recover all that lost time we didn't get to be together. I want him to hug me back and tell me that "it's okay", I want us to get back to being as close as we were when we were young.

So I stop bullshitting myself by pretend the dishes have this perfect order they need to be in. I stop stalling and go back towards the room Wallace was in, to talk to my best friend and tell him for the first time, how much I've missed him.