I remember that night we stayed up late and chatted on the phone about monkeys on Mars. I forget what exactly the fictional tale entailed. I know that it involved the icecaps. I started the conversation by saying, “What do you think about those icecaps on Mars?” Then I said something about how it was weird when scientists found monkeys ice skating on them.

We laughed, and the conversation lasted for hours. It was a good tactic to get over our fight. Then you said those words that lifted up my spirits—just to crush me, “I like this.

I replied, “I like this too,” with a shy smile that you could not see over the phone.

“No, I mean I like this--just this. I don’t want to ever lose this.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I don’t want to lose you. I’m tired of fighting… let’s just be friends.”

I was crushed and did not know what to say, so I said, “I don’t want to lose you either… I want to be your friend.”

Needless to say, the monkey conversation came to a halt. The conversation ended, and we hung up a few seconds later. We remained friends and talked endlessly about The Simpsons, but for some reason, I still miss you. We no longer talk about nonsense. Now we rarely talk at all. We lost all of those things that we wanted to preserve.

And now, I find a website that is featuring Jesus action figures. I laugh at the sick joke. Now YOU can nail Jesus to the cross! And, of course I think of you and all of the absurd stories we have forgotten but used to share. I send you an instant message, with a link attached, and in return, I get your away message. “Bangin’.” Gross… You’re with the girlfriend, naturally.