Jon has been my best friend since freshman year. We've never lost touch and I still see him all the time. He is my friend to the end, and I absolutely love him.
When I graduated from college my whole family came up to Providence the day before, we went out to dinner and my mom let me borrow her new Impala for the night. I went to my girlfriend's to help her pack. It was a weird, sad night, alternately spent packing up her stuff and bursting into tears. The next day we were saying goodbye to RISD, and we were also saying goodbye to each other, but we didn't want to admit it. I thought the day I graduated from college was going to be a victory dance, but it was one of the saddest days of my life.
I parked the Impala on the corner of Waterman and Prospect, at the top of the hill, and when I went out in the morning I saw that somebody had crashed into the back of it during the night. The tail light was smashed, the fender was messed up. Bad way to start a bad day. Plus it was pouring rain.
When my mother found out she was not happy.
About ten years later Jon told me he was the one who hit the car. He said he was having a bad night of his own, bouncing from place to place, and hit a car at one point. He realized it was me when I told him what happened but he didn't say anything. And he carried that guilt around for ten years.
It was such a bizarre coincidence I had to laugh - it was like a cheap plot twist. That day was long gone, the story had passed into legend, but he had to make amends. Of course I forgave him.
Because love is forgiveness.
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