My Friend Al

My mom and dad were kind, courteous, and humorous, and from them I learned the importance of friendship. They were fun to be around, and they had a nice group of close friends.

I am fortunate to have wonderful friends in my life; some friendships stretch back for many years. Making new pals is very exciting with the possibility of something that may endure, and there's nothing like the special bond I have with my long-term buddies, the old shoes. I learned a hard lesson this year, though: be careful who you draw near.

I first met Al in high school. We only hung out together a few times, always with a couple of mutual friends. I really didn't know Al very well then. When I went to college I bumped into him at parties.

When I was in my twenties I found out that Al was friends with some of my pals, and we saw each other more often. I admired his ability to put people at ease, and his casual sophistication. Al really was a lot of fun to be around, and he and I grew closer. Although I was considered a fun guy, I lacked self-confidence when it came to developing a meaningful relationship with someone special. I have to give Al credit for giving me the push I needed to pursue Michael, who became my partner. Al was happy that I met Michael, and the three of us were close. When Michael died, Al couldn't go to the funeral, but he was waiting to comfort me afterwards. Sometimes he held me when I cried.

We spent a lot of time together after that, and most of my friends liked his company, too. In fact, Al even went on business trips with me. I had romantic notions of him, but there was never a sexual relationship between us. He was a faithful companion through good times and bad, and he moved in with me.

Things started to get strange. Al had always been so much fun, but he started getting very moody. I realized he was giving me some bad advice. This good friend who had encouraged my relationship with Michael was now coming between me and the guys I met and hoped to date. One man, a wonderful fellow, told me frankly that Al really worried him. When Al heard this, he convinced me to ditch the budding relationship.

I finally realized that Al wanted me all to himself. I found myself in a baffling situation. How had I gotten myself into this mess? He was so possessive...why hadn't I seen this before? I knew he didn't really care about me, and I began to suspect that he wished me ill. I actually moved Al out of the house a few times, but he would be back after a few days or weeks, turning on the charm. Yeah, yeah, I know it was stupid, but I'd relent and let him back in. He'd promise to change, and said that it would be like the good old days. I truly believed we could recapture those memories, and forget all the crap that had happened lately. He was cunning in his persuasiveness.

Al doesn't live here anymore, but it got even worse before I discovered a way to get rid of him. He would wake me up at all hours wanting to spend time with me, and I was losing sleep. He discouraged me from leaving my home to see other friends, and wouldn't let me have people over to my place. I was ashamed of myself, because I would actually tremble if we didn't hang out together all the time. All the fun had gone out of our dysfunctional relationship.

Al threatened my life one night, and I had to be hospitalized. He was a powerful guy. Like a typical victim of abuse, I went back to him for a couple of nights when I returned home. But I knew he would kill me, so I snuck out of the house and found a group of people who promised a plan that worked. These people prefer to remain anonymous, but I know who they are and I know where to find them. I returned home after meeting them, grabbed Al by the neck, and poured him down the drain.