Something’s been troubling me since Septrember, but it takes a lot of explanation.
I recently had my 10 year high school reunion. I didn’t go, but it got me thinking about those long gone days. I had a miserable time in high school; I never fit in and I had just about no one I could claim as a true friend. There were exceptions to this rule (Matt Kotler and Kim, I’m looking in your direction) but my one absolutely true friend was Jeff Stern.
Jeff and I really didn’t have a choice but to be friends. Our fathers are best friends and we’d known each other all of our lives. Jeff and I always got along, but when we simultaneously moved to Orange in eighth grade, we became much closer. It was nice having a familiar face and a good friend to help ease the trepidation of moving to a new place, and Jeff felt the same way. We hung out together, ate lunch together and got beat up together. Jeff, I think, was always the person that he is now. He’s always been sure in his beliefs, able to pick out a phony from across the room, and he never was afraid to tell people the honest truth. I was a bit less mature –especially in high school. Orange did get to me, and I regret it.
When Jeff and I both went to Ohio State, I was prepared for more of the same closeness, but I could already tell something was wrong. He’d spend less and less time with me. When we freshmen in college, I’d go over to his dorm a lot, as it was close to my dorm, but his roommates were awful. They never stopped pestering him, so he moved across campus to Baker. His new dorm was very far away (about a 20 minute walk) so I saw him less. I’d stop by on the weekends (actually, I met a lot of my college friends because they lived by Jeff) but by the end of the year I’d hardly see him.
The summer after my sophomore year, I visited Jeff where he worked to show him my motorcycle, I wish I would have said something profound, because it was the last time I’d see him.
Back to the near present. About the time I got off my ass and sent some resumes out, I got a message from Jeff. He’s kept up with the blog for the past couple of years and saw how much I loved google. He has a friend that works there and he thought he’d forward my resume along. I responded, thinking that he’d want to get back in touch, but he didn’t. — And this is what’s bothering me. (I did get the interview by the way, but I screwed up the third one. I don’t blame them –I wouldn’t have hired me.)
Jeff now lumps me in with the same group of people that tormented us in high school. I’m no better to him than those pathetic coke-addicted backstabbing assholes. He tried to tell me in a nice way, but I know him too well. You don’t reject someone’s offer to keep in better touch because your friendship lapsed –you reject it because you find them tedious and dull.
What Jeff did for me stands in stark contrast to his actions. It was possibly the single most thoughtful thing anyone has done for me in the past five years, yet the sole reason he contacted me at all was because my webserver had died the week before and I hadn’t yet posted my resume on my site. If my resume was still there, he would have sent it in without even telling me, which, when you think abou it, is just about the nicest thing a person can do.
Tonight, I looked up Jeff’s music –he’s a Techno/House DJ– and all I can think about is this dichotomy. I can’t get it out of my head, and I wish that I could send a message to myself in my teen years. I wish I could go back and tell myself what’s really important.
…to be able to call someone as thoughtful and honest as Jeff a friend.