Andy

They say that a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. With me, that joke holds true. For the most part, I'll do nearly anything for free food.

Tonight was no exception. In exchange for Mexican food, I had to go to church. Anyone that knows me well enough (which aren't that many, to be honest) knows I don't like being force-fed religious views I don't agree with anymore. The only reason I even go to church on Easter and Christmas is out of respect for the holiday. Call it my "Holy Obligation" if you want.

I was sitting there, and a few people that know my mom well enough in the church's internal government recognized me as the son that only comes to church once in a blue moon. My sister, home for Spring Break, was with us, so to have the whole family at church was a special occasion to them.

My sister pointed out an old friend sitting on the other side of the church. Andy Karg. At least that's how I think you spell his last name. I can't really remember. I'll explain why.

Back when I was little and not aware of my sexuality, I used to go to Sunday School like the little clam following the walrus and the carpenter that I am. During my time there, my best friend was Andy. He was everything I admired in a person. He was fun to be around, easy to talk to, had an attractive personality, and just a really great person. Whenever he wasn't there, Sunday School never felt fun.

Well, as time went on, I became a little more aware of myself and how The Church (meaning Catholicism as dictated by The Pope) thought of people like me. I left in tears and frustrated, passing by Andy's brother on the way to the car that summer evening. I sat there for the whole mass baking and sweating and hoping that I would die like one of those babies left in the car in the mall you kept hearing about during that time. Never happened.

Since then, I rarely saw Andy.

Today was the first time in a long time that I saw him. Looking at him, I could tell he was already better off than I am. He held himself with pride and humility. He looked even more attractive than I remember. He could easily double for Leonardo DiCaprio if his hair was shorter. He has the same jaw line and even the same build as DiCaprio. Whenever I was look at him during mass, I could tell his faith in God had grew to a point that I could never reach. Then again, this doesn't surprise me knowing that his father is in charge of mass music.

When mass ended, I glanced back at him again. He must have noticed me constantly turning around and looking at him. Anyone on that side of the room would, seeing how my family was sitting in the front row. He gave me a silent salute, a signal that he recognized and remembered me. I gave him a humble nod and then turned my attention back to my family wondering when they would start their way out to the car.

On the way back, I looked back at Andy as he walked towards where the choir was to meet up with his father. I knew that was probably the last time I'll ever get some kind of interaction with him. I started to feel sad again.

When you are away from a person you were once close to for so long, it's hard to reconnect with them. Both of you then to change so much that unless you keep up with each other on a regular basis, you become total strangers to each other again. As much as I wish I had Andy as my friend again, I know it wouldn't work out. We haven't talked to each other since I was in the same middle school as him. That's at least seven years if not more.

Take note, people. I'm becoming more and more socially impudent.