L'Attrape-Cœurs sur le Metro

I was walking to the metro platform. 4 line, I think. The train arrived, and departed just as I approached the doors.

Four young men, like 1950's prep schoolers, had gotten off. One has a Holden-Caulfield-like hat, in camouflage, which he sometimes wears backwards. Two have long coats, retro and irreverant. Their steps are lightened with youth and revery.

They joke as they check the map for the metro. One tosses his Holden-Caulfield hat and catches it. They are in the wrong place, but with a laugh and a jaunt they turn around and take the same line they just got off, only in the opposite direction.

They walk four-abreast up the stairs, then two run up the short escalator, while the other two stay put. They have short cropped hair and one has a beard. They have lean faces with youthful features. Carefree and free of cares.

There is no drama. They seem to have one of the simple male friendships that no longer seem to exist, at least not for me.

My ex-roommate and ex-best-friend-at-college, Will, and I used to have that kind of friendship. The one that didn't need any events or activities to hold it together, but wasn't all gushy and full of emotion. It was clean and uncomplicated. We lived together. We hung out together. At some point, we started drinking together. We talked about sports and classes and politics.

People used to call me and Will "Brill", we were together so much. (With Laura, of course, it became "Brilla".)

For a variety of reasons, I didn't have that anymore. Will had shown his true character, and no one among my friends talks to him any more. His own roommates make fun of how anti-social he is.

The thing is, Will was only capable of the guy friendship. He couldn't tell me why he was angry with me, except by telling me he wanted to move out. And now he's alone. Like Holden. But without the ability to write it all down.