A JOKE WITHIN A JOKE WITHIN A REALITY. (PULL THE PLUG ON YOUR TRICK, GOD.)
There were a few moments that passed when I was okay with you not being here anymore. As if I accepted the fact that I am no longer blessed with (and by) you and no longer holding on to you. But believing this is even more unacceptable than not holding onto you and not being taken over by you each morning, so unacceptable that I can't even believe I thought that up. But the thought will come again and just be usurped by the realization that I am a forgetful, disrespectful friend. I just wish you WERE still here so I could tell you things. everything like I used to. So I could sit around with you and talk and laugh as if we knew each other forever. It felt like that. It's been a long year.
I remember when I was timid and nervous. We based a stunt and our bodies gave out the same exact way. Our legs bent and quivered and our faces looked troubled. But we both laughed. The first time your smile shined through in a moment of darkness or fear.
But this quickly ended. No more looking to my right to you, no more forgetting together. Now I was by myself. As the rest of the people looked to me for answers about you, I just looked to my right. But you weren't there. I NEVER EVER resented you for this. I only asked because I was concerned. I was always concerned with you from then on. It wasn't anything really, that you decided to leave my right. I mean it was a bit disappointing to be the only one squandering, but I just missed you.
We had one another when things started all over. A trite place, a new shyness, new faces. But I was not nearly as frightened because you were with me. You were me. I was you. We had each other and each other's cell phone numbers to call when we were in the parking lot. I was there when we were divided in the gym and when you told me you "busted your ass on the wet ground" coming in (this still makes me smile because I can hear you speaking this to me and I can see how you are standing in front of me and I can see how perfect you hair is, not moving in inch). You had to leave your heavy bags in a "Ryder" truck...with your mother....But I was there, I thought that was enough.
I was there when we realized our schedules were identical and I was in every class. I was there every English period, every Algebra period, every Religion, Gym, Health, and Biology period. I was there.
Do you remember we had a free Religion period? I told you everything. You didn't. If you did maybe I could have helped. Maybe I couldn't have. But maybe you would have trusted me enough to turn to me when things got terrible (as they eventually did). But then again, I DIDN'T tell you everything either. But what I did tell you was all that counted and the same from you. Nothing counted besides us, not even Joe next to us pretending to sleep, listening to every word that we uttered about the freaking boys we hate to love. The ones that are like no other, the ones that were identical....like us (sort of).
You made my birthday wonderful too.
And then school changed a bit. We didn't have to kick people out of their seats to sit next to one another. We were actually assigned seats together. That was the best. There wasn't a day that I didn't open your purse to get out that foggy mirror to look at my hair. And there wasn't a day that you wouldn't give me "that look" that only I can (or can't) describe when I asked if my hair was okay. Yours always was..I liked it better straight though. I never told you that. But now you know it.
It was February 1st. We were assigned some sort of timeline of our lives. I did mine at 11:30 at night after cheerleading at some game (where you would have been with me). You refused to do a presentation on yours in front of all the kids you were better than. So I was forced to go with you, so we can do it together (Maybe using the word 'forced' isn't good. I mean, I was told but I never objected to it. I wanted to be there and it was fun anyway. We laughed AS USUAL).
Who knew that where your timeline stopped would be the very end. You had five days to live your life (I think you lived a lot, but nothing close to what you were intended for).
What really pisses me off is that five days is not enough time to live a fucking life. NO ONE should be forced to do that...ESPECIALLY someone like YOU...someone as great as you. someone was wonderful as you.
The last time I saw you:
You told me my hair was okay without me asking. You're hair was straight (I think). We had religion last period. The last one with you. You were by mine and Kayla's locker. I was leaving and I touched both of you and said good-bye. Not knowing it was the last time I could ever say that to you.
IF I FUCKING KNEW IT WAS THE LAST TIME I WOULD HAVE KISSED YOU SO HARD ON THE LIPS AND HUGGED YOU FOREVER.
I would have told you to come with me and we could hide from anything without smiles. Because our smiles could win over anything (especially yours). I would have fucking given myself up instead of you because you had so many other lives to touch. I don't think I was even deserving enough to have known you for that long. But I appreciate this and am thankful I did.
Sometimes I spend hours thinking about you and wondering why you had to be the one to be broken. Other times I cry for a second thinking about you, just randomly throughout my day, other times I laugh. Sometimes I look at the word "Sprightly" and think about you because in English you always told that definition and that truly defined you.
I just think it's a joke that I'm still here and you're not. That I have the right to live my days and you don't.
I think it's a damn shame that you're not with any of us anymore.
I'm really sorry I never told you I loved your hair straight and that I didn't hug you forever and kiss you on your beautiful mouth and that I didn't tell you that I liked your lips. And I'm sorry I didn't hang out with you that one day in Kenilworth last May. I'm sorry that we're all helpless.
rest in peace.
NICOLE GIOVANNI.
1990/2005.
I remember when I was timid and nervous. We based a stunt and our bodies gave out the same exact way. Our legs bent and quivered and our faces looked troubled. But we both laughed. The first time your smile shined through in a moment of darkness or fear.
But this quickly ended. No more looking to my right to you, no more forgetting together. Now I was by myself. As the rest of the people looked to me for answers about you, I just looked to my right. But you weren't there. I NEVER EVER resented you for this. I only asked because I was concerned. I was always concerned with you from then on. It wasn't anything really, that you decided to leave my right. I mean it was a bit disappointing to be the only one squandering, but I just missed you.
We had one another when things started all over. A trite place, a new shyness, new faces. But I was not nearly as frightened because you were with me. You were me. I was you. We had each other and each other's cell phone numbers to call when we were in the parking lot. I was there when we were divided in the gym and when you told me you "busted your ass on the wet ground" coming in (this still makes me smile because I can hear you speaking this to me and I can see how you are standing in front of me and I can see how perfect you hair is, not moving in inch). You had to leave your heavy bags in a "Ryder" truck...with your mother....But I was there, I thought that was enough.
I was there when we realized our schedules were identical and I was in every class. I was there every English period, every Algebra period, every Religion, Gym, Health, and Biology period. I was there.
Do you remember we had a free Religion period? I told you everything. You didn't. If you did maybe I could have helped. Maybe I couldn't have. But maybe you would have trusted me enough to turn to me when things got terrible (as they eventually did). But then again, I DIDN'T tell you everything either. But what I did tell you was all that counted and the same from you. Nothing counted besides us, not even Joe next to us pretending to sleep, listening to every word that we uttered about the freaking boys we hate to love. The ones that are like no other, the ones that were identical....like us (sort of).
You made my birthday wonderful too.
And then school changed a bit. We didn't have to kick people out of their seats to sit next to one another. We were actually assigned seats together. That was the best. There wasn't a day that I didn't open your purse to get out that foggy mirror to look at my hair. And there wasn't a day that you wouldn't give me "that look" that only I can (or can't) describe when I asked if my hair was okay. Yours always was..I liked it better straight though. I never told you that. But now you know it.
It was February 1st. We were assigned some sort of timeline of our lives. I did mine at 11:30 at night after cheerleading at some game (where you would have been with me). You refused to do a presentation on yours in front of all the kids you were better than. So I was forced to go with you, so we can do it together (Maybe using the word 'forced' isn't good. I mean, I was told but I never objected to it. I wanted to be there and it was fun anyway. We laughed AS USUAL).
Who knew that where your timeline stopped would be the very end. You had five days to live your life (I think you lived a lot, but nothing close to what you were intended for).
What really pisses me off is that five days is not enough time to live a fucking life. NO ONE should be forced to do that...ESPECIALLY someone like YOU...someone as great as you. someone was wonderful as you.
The last time I saw you:
You told me my hair was okay without me asking. You're hair was straight (I think). We had religion last period. The last one with you. You were by mine and Kayla's locker. I was leaving and I touched both of you and said good-bye. Not knowing it was the last time I could ever say that to you.
IF I FUCKING KNEW IT WAS THE LAST TIME I WOULD HAVE KISSED YOU SO HARD ON THE LIPS AND HUGGED YOU FOREVER.
I would have told you to come with me and we could hide from anything without smiles. Because our smiles could win over anything (especially yours). I would have fucking given myself up instead of you because you had so many other lives to touch. I don't think I was even deserving enough to have known you for that long. But I appreciate this and am thankful I did.
Sometimes I spend hours thinking about you and wondering why you had to be the one to be broken. Other times I cry for a second thinking about you, just randomly throughout my day, other times I laugh. Sometimes I look at the word "Sprightly" and think about you because in English you always told that definition and that truly defined you.
I just think it's a joke that I'm still here and you're not. That I have the right to live my days and you don't.
I think it's a damn shame that you're not with any of us anymore.
I'm really sorry I never told you I loved your hair straight and that I didn't hug you forever and kiss you on your beautiful mouth and that I didn't tell you that I liked your lips. And I'm sorry I didn't hang out with you that one day in Kenilworth last May. I'm sorry that we're all helpless.
rest in peace.
NICOLE GIOVANNI.
1990/2005.