The Pear Tree

"Ms. Roth said that the things in the middle of apples are seeds and if you put them in soil they grow into big trees." Johnny wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand squinting his eyes out onto the hot pavement.

"A big tree? One that could block the sun from our eyes and help our popsicles from melting so quickly?" I didn't know whether this was one of Johnny's elaborate lies he would make up to sound smarter or not, but i did know that I was tired of the sweltering mid July heat.

Johnny and I grew up on the same street. We were just three houses apart, 367 steps, and 3 tile turning spins of our bikes. He was three years older than me and never once let me forget it. Despite the age gap, we grew up the best of friends. Every Christmas when we came home to see our families, we'd sneak out after our family dinners, light up a joint and sip spiked cider under the pear tree we planted so many years ago. You see, Johnny and I weren't sure if it had to be apple seeds to make a tree, but I did have a pear and it did have seeds. I remember the summer after that my parents weren't too happy with the sapling that had mysteriously sprouted in their rose garden.

Last Christmas, Johnny brought Sam for the second year in a row. That's how I knew this girlfriend was serious. Johnny was known to always have a different piece of eye candy strapped to his side. I mocked him for it all the time.

"If you're so much older and wiser than me, how come you aren't able to keep a girl for longer than one year Johnny?"

He told me girls were like Pokeman cards. He liked to trade his so he could have the most impressive collection.

I, on the other hand, had been with the same guy since my boobs showed up a handful of years after the pear tree sprouted. Nathan and I were middle school sweethearts, turned prom king and queen, turned doctors in training. I was 25 years old and I had never loved more than three guys in my life: my hardworking father, my best friend and neighbor Johnny, and my soulmate Nathan.

But last Christmas, when Johnny brought Sam again, something inside me ached. I didn't like the fact that they always held hands, even when Johnny walked out to our pear tree for our traditional smoke out. We never brought anyone else with us. Nathan had never once partaken in our holiday tradition. So when I saw Johnny walk out the door with his blonde Pokeman card entangled with his fingers, my smile quickly disappeared.

This Christmas, I sat on the plane alone, nervous, and completely uncertain as to what my identity would be to my family and to Johnny. For over a decade I had been a half. I was Nathan's other half. It was always Nathan and Georgia.

On the flight back from our trip last year, Nathan had confronted me.

"I noticed the way you looked at Johnny when he walked up to his house with Sam."

"Oh Nathan, yea! I was completely shocked that Mr. Hugh Hefner was able to keep a girl for two Christmases in a row. That has never happened in the history of Nathan," I wasn't sure if it was the turbulence, this weird conversation, or the blonde that had my stomach in knots.

"Georgia, I've known you for most of our lives. I know what you look like when you are heartbroken."

Once we landed, he took a cab to his friends place and I took one to our "old" place. He wasn't wrong. I had always loved Johnny. I thought that it was the kind of love you share with a best fried or family. Then I realized that the love I shared with Nathan was same love I shared for my best friend Anna and my childhood dog Spot. The love I had for Johnny was different. Every year I counted down the days until I would see him again. I lived everyday in passing, just trying to make to December 25th 10:15 p.m in my mom's rose garden.

Johnny had become my home. He was a place for my heart, a place for my worries, a place for hopes and dream. I could never imagine going through life without him by my side.

So I sat on this plane from Texas to Connecticut wondering how I would tell my best friend that I was madly in love with him.

But even though I was terrified, I couldn't help but smile at the thought of sitting underneath that Pear tree freezing my ass off, laughing at all the stupid shit we pulled as kids on our street. And, I'd finally be home again.