Sunday, June 27, 2010

Let down your hair (A different perspective, part two of How a Resurrection Really Feels.)

It was cold out tonight. Those nights you loved most, and it makes sense that you'd make your exit on this kind of note.

We met when we were kids, and I knew from the second I saw you that I was staring my destiny straight in the eye.

My dad loved you, my mom...she didn't care for you. She always knew you were trouble, and I think my dad saw that mischievous spark in your eyes and smile. But he understood, and knew you meant no harm.

You were so scared of him, which was funny. I remember the time he caught you sneaking into my room. You're right, they never talk about the noise aspect that comes with throwing pebbles at a daddy's only girl's bedroom window in the movies. Of course, the also used one pebble at a time, not a whole handful.

He still laughs about how fast you ran, especially considering that he got into his old suburban and beat you to your house. What, exactly, did you think was going to happen? Did you think it was like a game of hide and seek, and you could be safe going to home base?

I remember when we turned 18 and drove out to California just because we could. We stood on the shores of Mission Beach in San Diego. The sun was setting, and you kissed my cheek and said one day this would be all we knew.

That night in the hotel room, we smoked weed and watched Conan. In all the years I'd known you, you'd always been so closed off. So when you opened up that night, I knew I'd fallen in love for real, instead out of necessity because you were the only boy I didn't despise.

You got manic in that bed, and it was beautiful. I'd seen it a thousand times, and sometimes it scared me. But it was beautiful that night, when you told me your only fear in life besides losing me was waking up one day, and having fully lost your mind.

"I keep having this dream where one day I wake up and the lights are turned off. And I can hear myself, deep inside my head, screaming and trying to regain control. But nothing changes. It never stops, and I never feel like I'm going to wake up."

You were my first. I know I was yours, too. There's so much responsibility that comes along with that, and no one ever warns you about that aspect. This bond that can never be broken, no matter what.

This last summer has been among the best and worst of my life.

I knew what loomed on June 14th. You didn't, though. I didn't have the heart to tell you before hand.

Now it eats at me, it rips at me, it destroys me wholly.

Every time I close my eyes I see you rushing. So passionate about music, and literature. Captivating. I used to watch with a sort of perverse pride when we were at parties, and I watched you blossom into this new entity, the kind that could contain a room with his actions and what he was saying. You build people up, you rarely let them down, and when you did you didn't sleep until it was rectified. Despite being so damned depressed so often, you were so outwardly positive.

When your dad died, you shut off for a year. I don't think I heard from you once. You always understood when another guy held my hand. It killed you, but you understood.

I'm leaving for Dartmouth. I got accepted on a full ride scholarship. I want to live without regret, but I hate that my hearts torn between the allure of the great unknown, and the passion for what's known.

I don't expect you to wait.

We're at a crossroads, of where we've been and where we could be.

I know it'd be so selfish for me to ask you to walk away from the life you've worked so hard to build. My door is always open, but I know you hate the East Coast, and I don't think you'd do well with snow.

My door is always open. My phone line is never changing.

But I don't expect the world to stop spinning once my hearts inevitably starts breaking.

Please, come home.

1 comment:

Jenni said...

This was too sad. STOP MAKING ME SAD. And tell me next time you post again cuz I forget to check! :)