I have thought of him many, many times since then.
I wondered what he was doing and where he was (he traveled for work).
I have had dreams about him, fantasies about the two of us and daydreams about what "shoulda, coulda, woulda" have been.
In the end, I held firm to my resolve and did not contact him. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done.
The hardest part was letting go of my friend. We talked about anything and everything under the sun. There were no sacred cows, taboo subjects or beating around the bush. If one of us was about to make a mistake, the other gave warning and if one of us made a mistake, the other called foul. There would be months, when we didn't speak or see each other, but we would always get right back into each other lives and the rhythm of our relationship.
Well, after three years of no communication, he sent me an email to let me know he is very ill. As I read, reread and reread it, my heart grew heavier and tears filled my eyes. I wanted to go to him, to hold him and let him know how much he still means to me. The idea of him going through any pain or suffering is torturous to me. I still love him and would never want anything bad to befall him.
We are communicating again, and we will continue doing so. I could always make him laugh, and that is my goal, to keep him laughing, smiling, smirking, giggling, etc. The ubiquitous they say, laughter is the best medicine, and I'm making sure he gets a daily dose.
I won't walk away from my friend in his hour of need.