Let's still be friends.

Everyone has been there.

That moment when you see That Person again for the first time since they fell out of your life.

That Person who meant the world to you. That Person who changed your life for the better. That Person that you never wanted to hurt, but That Person who just didn't work out in the end.

And when That Person comes back into your life, even if just for a fleeting moment, all the good times and all the bad times come rushing back to you at once. You simultaneously remember all the highs that made this person mean so much and all the lows that drove them away.

And it really makes you wonder what to do with their old #7 replica jersey you have hanging in your closet, especially now that That Person is wearing #33 (#33?) in Cleveland.

Its no secret that I've had an irrational man-crush on Trot Nixon for the majority of my adult life. The original Dirt Dog played baseball like it was football, and considered a day a failure if his home whites stayed clean. What he lacked in skill he made up for in effort, and that is an attitude I have tried to adopt in my everyday life.

In an era where 90% of the Boston fandom bore a #5, #24, or #45, the #7 became a sign of determination, grit, and old-school baseball. Pink hat fans were not drawn to Nixon. His hard-nosed style was admired by scouts and derided by stats geeks. In the eternal battle against the Evil Empire, his pine-tarred helmet and always-adventurous facial hair expressed a pointed "F-You" to the corporate Pinstripes every time they came to town.

He manned the most difficult right field in baseball during the halcyon days of Pedro Martinez, when anything less than a win was not just a failure but a shock. He was there during the tough seasons in '01 and '02. He was at the heart of the Cowboy Up movement in '03 and beat the hell out of Tanyon Sturtze in the summer of '04.

He crushed that game-winning homer off Clemens in 2000. He ended the "Manny asks out of pinch hitting" 14-inning game in Philadelphia on Veterans Day '03 with a long ball that propelled the Sox through the playoffs, then dropped a game-winner on Oakland in the turning point of the '03 ALDS a month later. He knocked in the final two runs of the 2004 World series.

He was not without his faults either. He forgot how many outs there were and tossed balls in play to kids in the stands. He herniated a disc in his back driving to spring training. He was injury prone and couldn't hit lefties if his life depended on it. His range steadily decreased from his minor league days as a center fielder until he last left the Fenway field as a hometown hero on October 1, 2006.

And seeing Trot back in town in a Cleveland uniform this week felt the same as running into an ex-girlfriend when she's on a date with her new guy. You split on amicable terms, you have nothing bad to say about them, and it really does make you happy to see them with someone who will take care of them in a way you wouldn't.

But still, we had some good times, didn't we?