About two years ago, I made one of the best friends I think I'll ever have. Purely by accident, which is how all of the best friendships happen I suppose. He was my editor on a website that I'd liked enough to volunteer to write for. I detected a common sensibility between us, and we used to mock other boneheads who weren't up to speed. It felt like I was on the inside for once, like I was -- not on the crest of the wave -- but in good position in the wake to watch.

I remember the exact moment I knew this was a guy that I wanted to be friends with. It was probably an hour into one of those long interstate phone calls, and he was telling me about how he convinced himself not to commit suicide. Grim, I know, but his solution was to... shave himself, but just partially, knowing that it would make him laugh every time he had to go to the bathroom. Knowing that was enough to keep him going. It may be the funniest thing I've ever heard in my life. I think it's the element of the profane and the disturbing that makes it so damned funny.

Naturally, things change. It's almost a cliche what happened here: He met a woman, and it was a whirlwind. I've seen it on so many sitcoms that it's absurd. From the first weekend he met her, it was almost an immediate change. No more phone calls, he was never on Instant Messenger anymore. His e-mails slowed to a dribble and then stopped. I was out of the loop. And I lost a lot of momentum. I know it's dumb to get your self-esteem from outside like that, but it was heartening to know that someone I considered talented considered me the same. That was really the big blow, the one that took me the longest to get over, though it's taken me until now to admit it.

He's busy now, really busy. He's got his full-time job, his night job and his new wife. E-mails barely get returned, if at all. I haven't really tried to contact him that much, simply because I know he's got more important things to do. But occasionally there's something I'm sure he'd like to hear, something that relates to something else we used to laugh about, and I give him a call. Like tonight. Unfortunately, I interrupted dinner. He'd call me right back, he said. Fair enough.

Of course, the call never came. I'm sure he got busy, I'm sure he had other pressing things on his mind. It wasn't an intentional slight, I know. But part of me just feels like the dumb kid brother anyway. I don't get the references, I don't know the backstories. I don't know the secrets, and I don't belong.

Not much to be done except move on. But it really, really fucking sucks.