I have a friend I play golf with

who has been loyal since high school.

He might be a psychopath.

Strange things happen around him, and he responds

strangely.

In high school, a kid was making fun of me

and he flat-out

knocked the kid out.

“Keep your mouth shut you…”

And then I can’t repeat the rest.

This bully never bothered me again. I was feared.

What do you do with a friend like this?

I didn’t ask him to punch the guy in the face, but he did.

When we play golf, he talks about all the hot girls from high school

like it was yesterday.

“Do you know Mr. Burt?” He asked.

“Yeah—our history teacher?”

“He accused me of plagiarism—said I didn’t write the paper.”

“Brice, that was 20 years ago. It’s time to move on.”

“Our teacher was a…”

And again, I can’t repeat the line—and I don’t consider myself a prude when it comes to word choice.

My experience of having friends is that they are few.

I feel like true friends are born out of necessity. These are the people who will never leave you

despite years of absence, or long-distance. There is nothing more valuable.

By the same token, we become like those we associate with

and we are guilty by association, but I don’t care. I admire him, and I find him interesting (few people are).

He is something, I am not.

Friends that are never available, aren’t friends.

I wish the world worked-out for the unfortunate, and the unlucky

not for any sense of justice

but because, there are some people who need to be beaten.

I have mutual friends (or acquaintances) who are friends with my friend. We grew up together, and they treat him poorly.

I play golf with them, from time to time

and I can’t wait for the round to be over. All they do is compare themselves with me

and try to be better.

My friend never does this. We celebrate the sunset on the golf course

and share memories.

Somehow, when I’m playing golf with him

life isn’t a big waste

We’re men, and the world doesn’t matter

it’s something we talk about

and the space between us, is closer than ever.