friend turned boyfriend turned friend again

By the fall after college graduation, I was living in Allston, a neighborhood of Boston.  

Cheryl and I rented a two-bedroom apartment in a nondescript two-story brick building. We split the $240 monthly rent. Randi, a Chicago transplant, lived across the hall from us.  And through Randi, I met Don, also from Chicago.

At first, Don and I were just friends. But by the spring, our relationship had evolved to something more intense. I was 23 and he was 24. He was more than a bit crazy. I loved his humor, his indifference to convention, and his creativity. I was totally smitten.

I remember spending nights writing with him. I also remember a song Don wrote for me while on a business trip to Vermont. It was all very romantic.

A few months into our relationship, Don and I, along with three of my good friends, all moved into a duplex apartment together in Cambridge. It was a tumultuous year, filled with laughs and passion, as well as lots of arguing. For my birthday that year, Don bought me Jessie, an Irish Setter puppy. She never got completely trained, and made meals out of our furniture.

Don's company transferred him back to Chicago by the fall of 1976, and even though we'd pretty much broken up by then, I moved to Chicago too. Things didn't work out. I married someone else. Don moved to LA and became a writer for a top sitcom. I divorced and moved back to Boston. And poor Jessie was given to a good family in a Chicago suburb.

I visited Don in LA, but it wasn't a great trip. In fact, as this picture seems to show, I was happier to see him than he was to see me. It was a strange time.

Don married and divorced more than once. He became a successful TV writer/producer. And just recently moved to Arizona. 

But we stayed in touch all these years. Don even came to Alexander's Bar Mitzvah, still handsome, even with a shaved head.

Don and I talk regularly but not often.  We've even joked about growing old together; neither of us is currently attached. It could be a nice life — half the year in Scottsdale and the other half in New York City. Maybe even get a dog and learn how to train it. 


Whatever the future brings, I am lucky to share any part of it with my longtime friend.  Happy 65th dear Don.