He's name was Danger, yet i found myself pulled to him.
Nothing with him was ever what it seemed.
Laughs were unexpected but so was the heartach that broke me down to my core.
Yet, when the tears ended I would end up wanting more...
More of him, the boy whose eyes hid millions of secrets, and could look straigth through me.
Yet, still in the most uninviting moments, there was no other place I would rather be.
Twisted around he's pinky, wipped that what my friends called it but I would protest agaisnt it, denial!
But the sad truth was, the moment I found myself alone with my thoughts, all I could think is 'you Liar'
I pretend your away at war and I am your love waiting for you to come home. Waiting until our lips touching wasn’t just a daydream but a dream come true. And when you’d wake up it would be me you’d see when you separated from your slumber. It would be me you’d hold when the nights got cold instead of the last letter I wrote.
i wish
t,
No one told me, the first time, what had happened.
Instead I was nine and sitting on the foot of your hospital bed, knowing something was wrong. But god, we had been through so much by then, hadn’t we? You were fourteen but you looked so much older, washed out on those white sheets, and I didn’t want to know what happened. The gauze on your wrists tickled my face when you brushed my hair back, and I just wanted to go home.
You didn't tell me what you had done.
Instead, you got me high, seven years later, smoking pot. And your daughter is asleep across the hall, eighteen months old, and this is a bad decision but we’re making it anyways, because she’s already fucked by genetics, a little weed’s not gonna make it any worse. You told me about it, about how much it hurt and how much it wasn’t worth.
Do you remember? The picture in Delilah’s room, above her crib: You and me in black clothes. I’m young enough to still be blond, your hair is bleached white and cropped. Our sister is blurry in the background, walking with her head down and our grandmother’s necklace swinging.
I hope you know I didn’t scream, that last day.
So I’m sorry, for whatever I did. I loved you, and I wish that I didn’t have your birthday tattooed on my wrist like a monument, I wish I didn't have your blood splattered on the hem of my old shirt, I wish your daughter never saw, I wish life hadn't been such a bitch to us, I wish you had made it.
For what it's worth: I love you.
- z
I’m Sorry
I’m sorry for not being the best friend to you. I’m sorry for not caring enough to ask you how your day was. I’m sorry I didn’t fight hard enough. I’m sorry you had to suffer through everything alone.
I’ve been learning how to live again. I’ve been learning how to eat, how to sleep, how to love, how to open up. I’m learning what it means to say “I love you.” I’m learning how to be a better person and a better friend because I know how much it hurt you to cry out for help, only to be ignored because that’s what I’m doing now.
I’m sorry you had to hear those words, “I hate you,” I’m sorry they came from me. If I could take them back and destroy them, I would do everything it takes just to be able to take that pain away. I don’t hate you, I love you more than anything in this world and I know you loved me too, a long long time ago. But times have changed and you are gone, a memory fading with age, being erased as time passes. But fear not my love, for I think of you everyday, I write about you everyday. I look at old photographs of us and cry silent tears because you were the only thing I loved. But times change and I grew to love only myself, because I was breaking down and couldn’t bear to see you watch me crumble. Only I was too blind to see you crumbling away before my eyes. You were the first to fall, the first to die from this awful disease. I feared it would take me too, but it was you I learned from.
When you died, I forgot how to eat, how to sleep, how to get up and look at myself in the mirror. I began to close the doors of my heart, locking them forever. I hated everything about myself because I knew it had cost you your life. I started putting myself at the back of a long line of people that kept growing, I stopped caring about myself, only caring about those beside me. Because I thought you would be proud, I though maybe, just maybe, you would come back. But you never did.
The decorated hallways grew darker and darker, losing all color as I realized they were of no purpose to me. Nothing would bring you back.
I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until I was sitting next a friend, about to cry because everything hurt so much. He asked me what was wrong, as he had never seen me get to this point. No one has, for I don’t like to open the doors to my true feelings, I keep all of the dark parts, the parts that I hate the most, all of them are locked away, never to be seen. But somewhere along the way, I lost sight of what everything meant, and it all became muddled in my brain.
I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you for everything. For the memories, for the love you gave, for understanding. I’m so sorry about not caring enough to see how much you suffered. I hope everything is better now, because you deserved better than me.