My Boston Condo story
Sit down for a moment. I’m about to tell a story, and trust me—you’ll want to be sitting down for this one.
Oh, I’m sure you’ve heard many real estate stories before. Exciting stories, thrilling stories, stories that set your heart pounding and blood racing. But mark my words: none of them will be like this one.
You see, this story has something all of those others don’t.
This is my story.
Let me paint you a word picture.
This story begins in a lobby bar in a Boston train station.
The man’s dressed in a dark blue L.L. Bean spring sporting jacket topped off with a Patriots baseball cap. On anyone else the dark color would look drab, even depressing. But on him, it only makes him more captivating.
You’ve probably guessed it by now. The man is me.
I’m sitting at the end of the bar, all around me I could see individuals rushing back and forth some to their trains, others leaving, all busy, swirling around, never idle. As I people watch, sipping my beer, I feel like I’m looking at a human aquarium.
Suddenly, my cell phone pings. I read my text message in disbelief.
All of a sudden, I realize I need to have one of my Boston real estate agents cover my Beacon Hill condo and apartment showings, as my daily routine has been drastically changed.
Read Part 2 of my story tomorrow morning.
I rushed over to Mass General Hospital to see how my friend was doing, after getting hit by a car riding a bike in the Boston suburbs. I was told he was doing well and may even be released today,
Leaving MGH, I stopped at Starbucks in Beacon Hill, while on line I thought I saw a familiar figure. I was sure it was her, even though her back was turned to me. I was hoping I was wrong, but then she turned around and our eyes met briefly. After all these years I thought we never meet again, but here she was right in front of me. I stood there. we looked at each other again, she slowly walked towards me. unsure what to do I put my head down, and she slowly passed by me and and opened the door onto Charles street and walked away.
Later, l was disappointed at myself that I didn’t talk to her at Starbucks, but I was also angry with her, because years ago she pushed me away without any reason. She distanced herself until we were two strangers. I tried in the beginning to save our friendship, but after a while, I got tired of being the only person who tries to save the friendship and I gave up on her.
I wondered what had gone wrong between us. We were close friends once. We met at Uno Pizzeria in Harvard Square many years ago. We both had different friend groups, but somehow, we kept close, sometimes seeing each other everyday. I believed we would always be friends, but now I knew it wasn’t true.
Isn’t it strange sometimes the person you loved and who you thought will always be there for you becomes the person who hurts you most and leaves you all alone when you need them. I still once in awhile think about her and miss her, which I will probably always do, but now I realized I didn’t need her, and she will never need me in her life either. I was thankful for the good times we had. I know we will never be friends again, and that was okay. We weren’t meant to be friends. I’ll never forget her
My cell phone pings. My friend has been released from the hospital, He wants to meet me at his Beacon Hill condo.
Always cherish the friendships that survive.
But sometimes you converse with strangers at a restaurant and end up as just two strangers.
