For Mick
There was a part of me no one saw but you. Although I fought it to the teeth, I was an outsider. You could tell, because so were you. I learned to embrace a part of me that I hated, learned to love it because you loved it. I always wondered how you found me in the middle of myself, in the middle of my own self-reckoning, in the middle of the khaki and eyeliner and bangs of my teendom.
You talked me into so many adventures, gave me memories that would have never had the chance to be created without you. As the year wore on, you didn't have to do any convincing. You had me.
"Let's skip class and smoke a bowl."
"You should try out for this play with me."
"I made you a tape. Listen to the first song; you'll love it."
"Come over."
I didn't have you for long, but the time I spent with you was intense, deep, and cutting. Nothing was simple, and we liked it that way. We thought we were in love for a while. You were my sweetest love notes, my sidewalk corner screaming match. Lover's quarrels, although we only kissed. I wonder what your friends thought about the little blond girl desperate to fit in that you had taken under your wing. I wonder how you had the intuition to know there was something beyond what I presented to the world - someone smart, someone deep. I wonder, I wonder, I wonder... this is impossible to stop. Before you died, before there was a you to mourn, before you were just a memory I would never be able to overturn, I loved you the same as I do now. But you scared me. I remember that, too. Your intensity was as frightening as it was contagious. I knew I couldn't give you what you wanted from me. I could never be your girlfriend, I could never be as irreverent and carefree as you, even though I wanted to be. I'm so sorry. There are so many things I wish I could have done. I wish I would have looked for you more, asked more people where you were. But the times I looked, the times I asked, I never found you again, and thought you might want it that way. I didn't know if I should be respecting an unspoken wish or fighting against your desire to disappear. Whatever the case, I had faith that we would find each other again; it was easy to believe in something I thought was inevitable. Our parents talked once. Your mom told my dad that she thought we were each other's saviors. I just found that out.
No one really knows about us. We took place in the dark of the backstage, at one in the morning on the phone, in secret love letters and mix tapes, in the back of your mom's car, on the smoking trail, and in that look I swear you only ever gave to me, and in my look I know I only gave to you. We were an unexpected pair, you and I, and that's one of the things that made you so beautiful to me, one of the things that made our time so special. You were rare; you said I was, too. And now you're gone and I don't really know where that leaves me. I don't know how I will hold on to all of those things you gave to me and showed me without breaking down over this over and over again.
I wonder what happened or what you were thinking the night when you shot yourself in the head. I wonder if you planned it, or if life just threw you one last, fatal blow. I wonder if you still had your Charlie Brown sweater and cut off army pants, scrawny legs and goofy smile of your high school years and how those things fit in with your new wife and baby. I wonder how many people are mourning the loss of you, and how many of us you were able to remember when you felt alone. I wish I would have tried harder. I wish you would have, too. But there is no time to put impossible desires into the universe, they are irrelevant and hopeless and heartbreaking, so now I hope for your peace. I am grateful that your pain that you suffered with for so long has subsided, and the priveledge of knowing you and loving you, even for a moment. It's so odd- you left, went to Seattle University, and I went back to the girl I was before you - trying to fit in and failing miserably. You gave me the chance to be happy with myself, as myself. No one else recognized me the way you did after that. Maybe that me was just for you.
"Meeting is such sweet sorrow, for someday we may have to part…"
You talked me into so many adventures, gave me memories that would have never had the chance to be created without you. As the year wore on, you didn't have to do any convincing. You had me.
"Let's skip class and smoke a bowl."
"You should try out for this play with me."
"I made you a tape. Listen to the first song; you'll love it."
"Come over."
I didn't have you for long, but the time I spent with you was intense, deep, and cutting. Nothing was simple, and we liked it that way. We thought we were in love for a while. You were my sweetest love notes, my sidewalk corner screaming match. Lover's quarrels, although we only kissed. I wonder what your friends thought about the little blond girl desperate to fit in that you had taken under your wing. I wonder how you had the intuition to know there was something beyond what I presented to the world - someone smart, someone deep. I wonder, I wonder, I wonder... this is impossible to stop. Before you died, before there was a you to mourn, before you were just a memory I would never be able to overturn, I loved you the same as I do now. But you scared me. I remember that, too. Your intensity was as frightening as it was contagious. I knew I couldn't give you what you wanted from me. I could never be your girlfriend, I could never be as irreverent and carefree as you, even though I wanted to be. I'm so sorry. There are so many things I wish I could have done. I wish I would have looked for you more, asked more people where you were. But the times I looked, the times I asked, I never found you again, and thought you might want it that way. I didn't know if I should be respecting an unspoken wish or fighting against your desire to disappear. Whatever the case, I had faith that we would find each other again; it was easy to believe in something I thought was inevitable. Our parents talked once. Your mom told my dad that she thought we were each other's saviors. I just found that out.
No one really knows about us. We took place in the dark of the backstage, at one in the morning on the phone, in secret love letters and mix tapes, in the back of your mom's car, on the smoking trail, and in that look I swear you only ever gave to me, and in my look I know I only gave to you. We were an unexpected pair, you and I, and that's one of the things that made you so beautiful to me, one of the things that made our time so special. You were rare; you said I was, too. And now you're gone and I don't really know where that leaves me. I don't know how I will hold on to all of those things you gave to me and showed me without breaking down over this over and over again.
I wonder what happened or what you were thinking the night when you shot yourself in the head. I wonder if you planned it, or if life just threw you one last, fatal blow. I wonder if you still had your Charlie Brown sweater and cut off army pants, scrawny legs and goofy smile of your high school years and how those things fit in with your new wife and baby. I wonder how many people are mourning the loss of you, and how many of us you were able to remember when you felt alone. I wish I would have tried harder. I wish you would have, too. But there is no time to put impossible desires into the universe, they are irrelevant and hopeless and heartbreaking, so now I hope for your peace. I am grateful that your pain that you suffered with for so long has subsided, and the priveledge of knowing you and loving you, even for a moment. It's so odd- you left, went to Seattle University, and I went back to the girl I was before you - trying to fit in and failing miserably. You gave me the chance to be happy with myself, as myself. No one else recognized me the way you did after that. Maybe that me was just for you.
"Meeting is such sweet sorrow, for someday we may have to part…"