Hard Time

When I started working with him my freshman year of college, he was one of the (many) arrogant guys who'd been reporting for a while. He was all about following sports, pushing buttons, and instigating arguments. He'd do anything to get me fired up, and he did it well.

One night, I made the ill-advised decision to take a stupid "slut" Internet quiz everyone in the office had been laughing about. Looking onto the screen over my shoulder, he deemed me The Slut. Despite my relative innocence at the time, the name stuck. He always did know just how to push my buttons. I retaliated by nicknaming him The Bigot, a name he disliked greatly, in part because it was a tad more accurate than he wanted to admit.

For the next several years, The Bigot and I loved to hate one another. Sometime along the way, though, the nature of our relationship changed from hateful to more friendly. The truly mean comments were replaced by jokes and jabs more underscored by sexual tension and something akin to friendship. Contrary to all indications, I found The Bigot could be a really great guy underneath his asshole demeanor.

Of all the people who came into my life during college, he is one of the few with whom I've maintained fairly regular contact. I spoke with him last in November, I believe. I remember walking toward Georgetown on a cold clear day to meet some friends as I took a few minutes to catch up with The Bigot. We shared about our respective love lives and careers. We bitched about mutual acquaintances who've lost time for even the most cursory periodic updates or contact. We flirted shamelessly and threw around the idea of seeing one another again.

Earlier today I learned he has been in prison since April 2. I don't know the story or the length of the sentence. And I don't know how to react to the little information I do have. At this point, I can't even write him a letter. Even if I could, I don't know that he'd want to hear from one more person in the periphery of his life who knows he's been convicted.

All I have are questions. What circumstances lead to this? What is he living with daily? How is it affecting his family, his friends, the lawyer girlfriend he'd told me he was going to marry? When is he up for parole? What will he do when he gets out? Will he be a completely different person?