Friendship can sometimes be summed up in a single word
High school was a hard place for me. I didn't fit in with the "in" crowd, wasn't a jock, didn't have the body to be a cheerleader, didn't play D&D and wasn't a tech nerd. What I was, by most people's standards was a "brain" and a "goody two shoes". I had excellent grades and studied a great deal. I wasn't a smoker, didn't drink socially and I was a virgin. When I entered high school, I hadn't had a real boyfriend yet, didn't know what the word "masturbate" meant and didn't have a pool of friends to hang out with at the mall. My idea of a good time was fishing at the park, watching Hammer films on weekday afternoons and Star Trek in the evenings and curling up with a good book. I met Howard in high school and things improved somewhat for me socially because he had gone to junior high with some of the people who were popular so I was sort of accepted by them when we started dating. Of course, I didn't really care for that crowd because the majority of them were stuck up and snotty. Usually, they only spoke to me if they needed help in class or they wanted me to cheat for them on a test. So, socially, high school was an unhappy place for me. I was quite chubby then, mostly flat chested and not very sure of myself. Then, I took a class that had both sophomores and juniors in it and somehow made the acquaintance of a young man a year ahead of me. He was a Star Trek fan. No, He was a Trekkie and he was proud of it. He was a good Catholic boy who honored his parents. And, it turned out, he was a misfit magnet, skirting easily among all the social groups and becoming friends with a lot of people who had no definable social group. He was only in my life for a handful of years but during those years we became such close friends we could finish each other's sentences. Sometimes we'd sit at my kitchen table or on my front porch and just sit. Sometimes we didn't need to say anything because just being there with each other wa enough. We dated for a bit and that ended badly but we came around to being good friends again after that. His name was Frank Stumpo and he taught me a great deal about what being a true friend really was.
In 1986, I was 20. I had finished high school, broken up with the high school boyfriend (Howard), started college and had already met the young man that would become my future husband. I entered college determined to change how people saw me and sort of remade myself. Frank and I had sorted out our differences by then and were very close once more. He heartily approved of Liam and jokingly referred to him as "What's his name". By that summer he had gotten a good paying job, was finishing up at a community college, was planning on continuing his education and getting his bachelor's degree and was hinting at having a girlfriend that might just be the "one". And then, he went out one night with a mutual friend and never came home. I was supposed to be there that night, but there had been stupidity involving our mutual friend and I had declined. I lived. Frank died. And his loss has followed me through my life. To this day, I miss him terribly. Though I only visit him three or four times a year now, instead of the several times a month that I used to visit, he's often on my mind. He taught me what being a good friend was all about. He taught me the importance of having fun. He showed me what loyalty meant and taught me that being true to yourself was more important than being "in". To this day, his death remains an unsolved mystery. Nobody knows what really happened that night. Actually, one person does, but he never fully explained and the police had no choice but to release him. What I do know is that his family lost their second son that night and I lost my bestest friend.
I love you Frank. Thank you for being my friend. I'll be by a little later and we can just sit.
In 1986, I was 20. I had finished high school, broken up with the high school boyfriend (Howard), started college and had already met the young man that would become my future husband. I entered college determined to change how people saw me and sort of remade myself. Frank and I had sorted out our differences by then and were very close once more. He heartily approved of Liam and jokingly referred to him as "What's his name". By that summer he had gotten a good paying job, was finishing up at a community college, was planning on continuing his education and getting his bachelor's degree and was hinting at having a girlfriend that might just be the "one". And then, he went out one night with a mutual friend and never came home. I was supposed to be there that night, but there had been stupidity involving our mutual friend and I had declined. I lived. Frank died. And his loss has followed me through my life. To this day, I miss him terribly. Though I only visit him three or four times a year now, instead of the several times a month that I used to visit, he's often on my mind. He taught me what being a good friend was all about. He taught me the importance of having fun. He showed me what loyalty meant and taught me that being true to yourself was more important than being "in". To this day, his death remains an unsolved mystery. Nobody knows what really happened that night. Actually, one person does, but he never fully explained and the police had no choice but to release him. What I do know is that his family lost their second son that night and I lost my bestest friend.
I love you Frank. Thank you for being my friend. I'll be by a little later and we can just sit.