photo via kiwi_gal

by Byron Flitsch

The sun-filled apartment smells of cardboard boxes as I watch the movers haul out Jeff and his wife’s packed goods.

“Moving is a pain in the ass. “ Jeff says to himself as he seals the top of a large box with tape. The loud screech of tape coming off the roll mixes with footsteps of the movers, the nervous pacing of paws from his pets, and the sound of cars passing on the busy street in front.

“It feels like you just did it.” I say while chipping at my fingernails. It’s what I do when I’m nervous and don’t want to face the reality of something.

“Well, it was just a year ago...” He says in a “duh” tone. I helped him move from his studio apartment. It was the end of last summer, I was single, he was moving in with a girl he was madly in love with, and our friendship had began its evolution. Now, he’s married, I’m in a relationship I couldn’t be happier in, and he is on his way out of the city to start a new stage of his life with his wife.

“Man, things have changed.” I say sitting on a sturdy packed box.

“Yup.” Jeff says sitting on the hardwood floor a few feet away from me. He was never much for ‘moments’. As the apartment got emptier, our voices began to echo more in the space.

It started to become apparent that like how echoes slowly dissipate, this particular period of our friendship was beginning to fade.

After dropping of Jeff at his new house, I drive back to the city. I watch as the skyline becomes larger as I get closer to home. Eight years ago, I moved here and so much has changed with the city since then—new buildings built, old buildings destroyed and even new names for old. Like how the solid city I was living in was always in constant flux, as was my friendships. All my friends were moving on to new places in life, as was I.

It was then where I really realized nothing ever would stay the same when even the concrete of Chicago evolves.

They say that evolution is what makes us stronger, smarter, and more efficient. We have to adjust with where our environment is going, even if we don’t know where our environment is going. It’s a natural process that almost seems to be controlled by some sort of higher power.

In romance or in friendships time causes us to evolve, but what if we evolve so quickly in different directions that our relationships go extinct?

What’s the best resolution in fearing evolution?

“I’m going to miss the old us.” I tell my boyfriend, Adam, that evening while sitting on his balcony. The summer warmth that we were so used to was slowly being replaced by that autumn briskness that inspires sweaters. A new season was on its way.

“You’ve always got me,” He says as he leans in and kisses my forehead. I look at him and smile. For whatever reason, no matter how much we evolve, I honestly can believe that about Adam and I, “And you will always have Jeff… just a different Jeff; just like you’re a different Byron.”

He was right.

We’re always becoming different people as time goes on. I probably would have nothing in common with “Byrons of Byron Past”. Things are always going to change within our selves. It’s in that evolution where we have to learn how to accept that if our selves are allowed to change and become better than you have to trust your relationship’s evolutions will only get better. In the end, the evolution of our selves affects the evolutions of our relationships.

That’s why relationships are so incredible when they last for so long. If they can survive through all the evolutions, well, that’s the resolution that’s the best conclusion.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: When Byron Flitsch isn't pondering the art of relationships, buying magazines he'll never get time to read, traveling without maps, and discussing the meaning of life over a cocktail, he is a freelance writer. He's been published in The Advocate, New City, Gay Chicago, and a variety of print/online publications. You can spy on Byron properly at his website: www.byronflitsch.com