Lots of tiny universes

Today was dance class (alas, no Eddie) then errands. At one point I ended up in Andersonville where I had lunch at Andie's. I sat there, remembering a phone call years ago with my Very Best Friend, who was living in Chicago at the time. He had gone to Andie's on a blind date with a guy who would be his first serious long-term relationship.

"I had this spicy Moroccan Eggplant," he'd told me. "With dill rice. Oh my God."

We had been there together later on, and today I sat, by chance where they had (or right next to it) on that date. I ate the spicy Moroccan Eggplant (with dill rice) and thought of those times; I also had started dating someone around that time, my first serious relationship since my divorce. I sat and recalled all the details of our first date: a movie at the Kendall Square theater, food at the neighboring restaurant, a trip to his apartment to see his cat. There were many things during that date (the constant pages, the leaving me to talk to the roommate while he took a long call from a friend going through a breakup) that turned out to be portentious as to the kind of boyfriend he would be - always at everyone's beck and call - everyone's but mine, that is -- but at the time I was falling in love, and made accommodations.

Now my best friend lives in London with a different boyfriend, with whom he is happy, and who is adorable. My long-since-ex-boyfriend has apparently learned how to be devoted and is married. I live alone in Chicago, and visit my Best Friend's places, and think of all that's gone by. In the end, I think that, 4,000 miles notwithstanding, still having my Very Best Friend is the best part.