Fare Thee Well, Richard S. Cunanan

Back in college, Richard always played second-fiddle to his best friend, G. It was G who got the girl, who got the lead part, who grabbed more attention. He also became my ultimate college crush; I fell hard for him while Richard became the “best-friend barrier” I had to overcome. Meanwhile Richard was contented with playing his wing-man, making sharp observations and snide comments along the way. That was first year, when we were all classmates in our English homeroom section.

By second year the two besties were separated because of their chosen courses. G and I became inseparable during our Communication Arts classes, while Richard had to attend his Psychology classes. I thought I succeeded in bumping him off. But then we all joined the college theatre company. There I realised that while I could potentially replace Richard as G’s constant companion, it will take more than proximity to get him to fall for me.

Of course neither guys knew what I was up to. To them, I was just a close friend. In fact, Richard was very gracious in acknowledging that I was spending more time with his best friend than him; not once did he take that against me.

On our fourth year I decided to tell G about my feelings. Needless to say, I crashed and burned.

Eventually we graduated from college. Because I never hung out with Richard in school, we didn’t seek each other out after college. G eventually moved away from me both emotionally and physically (he got married and moved to the US). Richard was someone I’d often bump into again and again. He became very involved in local theatre, appearing in different productions of various school-based and professional companies. Even onstage, he was rarely the lead. But he was truly the epitome of a supporting player—someone who ably did his part to make sure that the others and the entire play would shine as a whole.

He extended that attitude offstage. The rare times we’d bump into each other he would always be genuinely curious about how I was and what I was doing. And while he was sharply funny, Richard had an easy laugh which he’d let loose anywhere to show appreciation of a good joke or two.

Richard was physically huge, but he never let that stop him from acting. And directors kept getting him in spite of, or maybe because of, his massive frame. At least every Christmas he had a sure gig playing Santa Claus.

His huge frame couldn’t hide his big, generous heart—but it managed to hide the sickness that was inside him. He was unhealthy for years, but his joie de vivre successfully masked his deteriorating health.

Two weeks ago his cold and cough developed into pneumonia, and he was brought to the hospital. His kidneys failed, but doctors managed to stabilise his condition. On Friday, March 23, he suffered a cardiac arrest and breathed his last.

Because Richard was a freelance actor, he worked and became friends with many members of the different theatre companies in the metro. His wake managed to do the near impossible—unite these diverse companies. For one night, Richard was the lead.