10:45pm
Dear Eric,
The first time we met was at Taylor Sakaratt's place. I even remember the night before we met: my mom had locked my board in the trunk of her BMW because I refused to stop wearing-what else? my infamous Batman painters hat. I almost didn't make it to that session that beautiful Saturday afternoon (I believe it was in April). Luckily, I managed to smooth things over with my mom and got my board. Thank God I did because that afternoon, I met you.
Taylor and I played S-K-A-T-E while we waited for his "dope friend from the village," to show up. He introduced me to you, an afro-wielding skater from Massachusetts with an infectious laugh and a genuinely friendly and welcoming personality. I haven't really seen that in any person I've met in the city since (barring, of course, Corey and Jason); as I write this now, it only makes perfect sense that you aren't from New York!
The three of us skated all across downtown and midtown that afternoon, and I remember being supremely impressed by the amount of pop you had with all of your tricks (perhaps it was hidden inside your 'fro). As Taylor and Corey swore and smoked and talked to the "moldy bitches," as they preferred to be called, you just skated and laughed. That's how I knew you were totally different from the rest of the skateboard scene in New York City, as little as I knew about it then. I'm sure we ate Wendy's that afternoon, where we traded laughs and numbers and found out about our common interests.
You know what happened next: friendships can change and alter and for one reason or another, I fell out of contact with Taylor, Corey, Mark, Kevin, and the rest of the Moldy crew. But I never fell out with you. We remained friends and, even if we couldn't skate, we would just hang out at your place. My friendship with you opened the door for so many other relationships and friendships like your brothers, your folks, your grandparents (your family became my second family), as well as Damon, Calder, Nabi, Esteban, and so many others. If in life, you can pick your battles and you can pick your friends, I know I made the best decision in having you be my best friend.
I remember sitting in my room on a disgustingly humid summer afternoon the day I got the phone call from Jason. I wouldn't wish that pain on my worst enemies. I came out to visit you and I was so happy to find that despite a terrible situation, you were the same old Eric. There was less hair of course, but your spirit was unscathed. I'm so happy that we got in those bits of skate sessions and birthday barbecues and the like. As messed up as it is, tragedy often brings people and family together, and we all worked as a family to raise you up. That's how much we all love you, Eric. You are everyone's son. You are everyone's brother. You are everyone's best friend.
At about the halfway mark into my senior year of high school, I was forced to make "a decision" about where I was going to attend college, if you can even call it that. For me it was a no-brainer: New York all the way. Even if CUNY Baruch lacked the traditional college experience everyone raves about, it made no difference to me. I would have my Brooklyn Banks, my Fed-Ex buildings, my pyramid ledges... I'd have my friends like you and Jason. What I was "giving up" in keg stands and frat parties (totally overrated in my opinion) I was more than making up for in real, worthwhile friendships and experiences. I might have ended up a finance major in Michigan, or an accounting major in Florida, or a law student out West, but I am a writing major in New York, Eric, because of you. All of the times you and I have shared together since we were in high school, whether we were skating or just goofing around, gave me ideas and thoughts that needed- that still need- to be translated out to written words. And they will be.
Without you- or perhaps without snatching my board out of mom's BMW- I would not end up in Jersey City. I wouldn't be working (happily) at a hair salon writing freelance journalism on the side. I wouldn't be meeting the people I'm meeting (and that includes the women too). I wouldn't be developing the person that I am developing. I'd have eyes that would have seen far-different things, and I swear the things they'd have seen would not have been as remarkable and extraordinary as the things they have indeed captured. And that is thanks to you.
Eric: You are the pivotal reason I am me and will always be me, and as abstract as that may sound, I know there are others who understand exactly what I mean. It bares repeating: thank God I got my board out of my mom's BMW, the fraction of a spark, the infinitesimal catalyst that would make us friends and would change my life.
With certainty, friendship is one of those bizarre, beautiful things that is forever. It cannot be stopped, nor can it expire by the strict and unyielding time restraints of life. Friendship is undying. No matter the situation or circumstance, our friendship will always remain, and the light of our greatest, most fun and thrilling times will always outshine life's darkest moments, helping to guide us. In some sense, we ourselves become eternal through the lives of others. And you will always be here and be incredible through me and through others.
Thank you for everything you've ever done for me, which is so much more than anyone can comprehend. Thank you for every word you ever said to me, for never a harsh word was uttered by you. For encouraging everyone to take it easy and to be themselves; as you perfectly said it, "You should never have to explain yourself to anyone." Thank you for always having my back, and for always doing the right thing by friends. Thank you for being you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you!
I love you.
Now and forever your best friend,
Dave.
