It was with mixed emotions that I listened to the message on my voice mail. It was the familiar sound of Mark, a long time friend whose call I had missed earlier that afternoon. Now as I heard it, for the third time, I felt my stomach slowly relax from the uneasy twist that had taken hold the minute I had heard his all-knowing chuckle.
He was in town, hoping to catch-up on old times and share a few beers. He left me his number and I had written it down, during the second replay, but after I closed my cell phone, I wasn't sure if I wanted to see him. Isn't the past better left alone? Hadn't we drifted apart for a reason?
I picked up the scrap of paper that had his hotel information on it as well as his cell number and tucked it into the front pocket of my slacks. Heading upstairs to shower and shave, as well as take care of any unwanted hairs on my smooth flesh, I thought about Mark and the last time we had spoken.
Spoken was such a lame term, seeing as it had been via an email not a face-to-face encounter. The last time we had actually looked upon the other, had been ten years ago maybe more.
Under the heat of the shower water, I began to wash away the sweat and dirt of the day. My thoughts unexpectedly returned to Mark. I saw him with his lazy smile and wavy blond hair; he was all bunched up in Arctic gear as he headed off to the slopes. He loved the outdoors, especially winter. Mark was like a kid when it came time to embrace the cold and welcome Old Man Winter to the hills.
Mark and I had lost track of each other when he had succeeded in making it to the Olympics and had developed a plethora of fans and endorsement deals. He still called me and we chatted. He told me about a few lovers he'd had, and I shared with him my experiences.
In time though our phone calls began to lesson and soon we were only talking once every other month. Emails replaced phone calls and texting each other – well that never happened. Eventually an email went unanswered and to this day I honestly don't know who had sent it.
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