We talked about alot of stuff, almost like the old days. It was very comfortable. He said a few things to me about being yourself, and he said something I needed to hear:
he said "I'm sorry."
I needed that because I knew Andrew knew me better than that. Somehow all the rest of it was believable, but Andrew accepting it wasn't. I think that's what hurt the most. That I knew our foundation was stronger that the rumor it seemed to crumble under.
But as different as we have become in a year, some things never change. Great companionship is a constant. And in that moment the look of stunned realization crept across his face, and he told me he understood the miscomunication and he felt he should apologize for not getting both sides.
I got it all back. I got who mattered back. I held my own because I knew I was right, and everything that really mattered came back to me.
And I was vindicated.
I want my children to know him. I want to die knowing him. I want to attribute part of my life to him. I want to be able to say I did that for him.