Losing A Close Guy Friend is the Worst

The following post is a repeat that was originally on my blog, the Campus Bachelor. It’s being re-posted here as I’d like this blog to feature all of my work, including posts like this one that didn’t transfer over automatically during the recent move back to ‘IQVX’. Enjoy!

This post originally went live on November 24, 2012.

About one year ago, I lost probably one of my greatest friends. He didn’t know it, but he was definitely going to be the best wingman I could have had going forward. He really didn’t become competent with girls until nearing the end of our friendship. One memory: We drove to a house with two horny girls in the 6-7 range waiting for us. He didn’t have a condom, and he didn’t care. Wasn’t long before he was fucking his girl in the ass, and eventually dominating her vagina.

I continued to have sex with my girl normally, but thought quietly, he’s really coming around.

But that’s beside the point.

Let’s call him Matt.

Our friends group had long made fun of Matt for having “no game”. He had received female attention often in school and never took advantage of it. He was shy, but incredibly smart – unlike his borderline mentally retarded older brother – and just seemed to have an adeptness for life that cannot really be explained. I met Matt originally through his aforementioned older brother, who was my age, and in my grade and a very good friend for a long time. ‘Retarded’ is definitely a hefty charge, but one I don’t think is inaccurate, these days. Matt’s brother was consumed by marijuana in both the physical and mental sense, and to this day is still floating somewhere that can’t be reached. Sad considering how nice of a guy he was, and how helpful he was to me personally, during our younger years.

Matt himself also took a liking to a drug, however this one was much more common, and much more dangerous: Alcohol. It seemed to begin as just a fad – I mean, who doesn’t love getting drunk the first few times they’re lucky enough to do so? I sure loved the feeling. But after a while I settled down, as do most people.

Matt didn’t.

In fact, he kept drinking at an alarming level. At this point, he was only a junior in high school. He drank every weekend but it didn’t seem to affect his grades. He was in all-honors classes, particularly proficient in math and science. As time transitioned towards Senior year, he started to drink incessantly – every day – including morning, afternoon, night. He was a living, breathing, high-functioning alcoholic… at only age 16.

I always felt that I was best-positioned to help Matt and potentially turn his life around. But I was away at college for my first year, and much too distant to have any influence on the way he was operating – hell, it was a challenge even when I was at home living down the road from him. We talked and hung out when I was back, but gradually, we grew apart and he became entrenched in a social group where drugs and alcohol were commonplace. I occasionally dabbled in this group (and it landed me a few notches) but never really had a spot in it. I was too distant and at odds with the intelligence level, save for Matt.

During the last day of school his junior year, he was caught belligerently drunk at school. His parents tried to cut him off from that social circle that was influencing and fueling his addiction, but to no avail. Eventually, not wanting to see their son secluded, they gave in and let him back in a little. He cleverly found ways around their restrictions (although said restrictions were hilariously flawed) and continued to feed his addiction more. During the summer before his junior year of high school, I thought his run had finally come to an end: He was caught driving drunk. It’s over, I thought.

But it wasn’t. With a little quick thinking, and a lot of luck, his life continued.

The officer asked for his parents’ phone number. He gave them his brother’s instead.

I watched intently as his brother answered the phone, understanding clear as day (he’s not totally retarded) the situation that Matt was in. He, pretending to be his dad, told the officer he was “sending his son to get his younger brother” and drive him back. Bizarrely, it worked.

His brother and I drove to the scene to find a distraught and drunk Matt. The officer said “I’m not going to ruin this kid’s life. I’m not going to give him a DUI. But he’s got to get his shit together. Because he’s sixteen – and he’s drunk.”

I had mixed emotions about this. On the one hand, he deserved a DUI hands-down, and maybe it would have ended his addiction for good. On the other, it could have spiraled him into serious depression and more drinking… looking at a life of poor job prospects with that underage felony always in the back of his head. The officer gave him a million other tickets that weren’t the big one – and he had to work 2 jobs over that summer just to pay the court fees. He did all that, and yet still drove drunk and made the same poor decisions.

However, with regards to the game, he’d made great strides and was getting notches on his own for a change. It took me a while to realize it, but the alcohol (which soon wasn’t enough – he began mixing with drugs) had created a completely aloof teenager who treated girls poorly and met most of them at night while he was drunk. All of these things are tenets of great game, but an even better attitude. He pulled off some feats that even I wasn’t able to. Impressive kid.

Sadly, he also became irrational. He had been “dating” a girl long-distance who I had previously exchanged steamy texts with a while ago (I was bored). I’d hear stories all the time of how he would cheat on her with the local pussy offerings. One day I was once again bored… and in a moment in which I didn’t think, sent her a photo of herself naked that she’d sent me a while ago as a joke. Somehow, word of that got to Matt, who cut off all communication with me.

Was it his distaste for my comments about his alcohol abuse and he was just using this incident as an excuse? Surely he didn’t care about the bitch – he was cheating on her. Or was it just his irrationality reaching a new height? I don’t know, and I still don’t know, and I’ve grown to not care.

Hypocritically, I say that as I’ve already typed over 1,000 words to this post.

The truth is that I do care – and while I was wrong, he was more wrong to cut me off. Something wasn’t right and still isn’t right about it all. But I will say that a real friendship between two men is much more powerful than any bond you could possibly share with a girl who you’re keeping around for the midnight trysts and backseat panty flings.

He has me blocked on some social networks, unblocked on others. I check in on him periodically (I’m still friends with some of his friends) and despite his seeming hatred of me, would be pretty upset if something ever happened to him. He’s not the same person that I initially befriended by any means, but I feel like what he’s become and I could have gotten along fine.

I guess I’ll never know.

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