It's the thought...right?
Well, I found my best friend from high school. A joyous reunion albeit bittersweet. I'm going to go have lunch with her on Saturday and I'm thrilled. I've seen her once in eight years time.
Now the bittersweet part....
A dear sweet friend of mine was killed three days before Christmas. I wish I had known, because I would've gone to the service, but when you're not friends with anyone you used to be friends with, how could you possibly know?
Joe Bradbury. I remember the first day I saw him 6'5", big eyes, and a killer smile. Long hair, leather jacket, earrings, a parents worst nightmare. I was, I think 15. I had seen his picture at his sister's house, who was a friend of my friend's and asked 'Who the hell is that gorgeous creature?' Well, beyond my wildest dreams, she set me up with him. I remember we were 'supposed' to be at this school play, but we just walked around my high school campus, and down to the elementary school, where we walked around, and held hands.
I was head over heels, he came over for dinner one night, I remember we were sitting in the living room and he had his arms around me. He had that distinct leather smell to him, cleanliness and leather. My dad yelled 'I'm going out in the garage' and Joe whispered 'And I'm going out with your daughter' We laughed, and he left a little bit later. Not before I walked him out to his car, and he kissed me, my first kiss. With this beautiful sweet, wouldn't hurt a fly rebel of a man. We saw each other for a while, and then he met my best friend, Rhiannon. They fell completely in love. I got over the heartache, and we were all friends. My parents hated Rhiannon. So we couldn't see each other. I remember how badly I wanted to see her the night of his prom. Joe was so good to me. He came and knocked on my door in his tux, we said we were taking a walk, and I got to wish them both off.
When I changed schools, I lost touch with both Rhiannon and Joe. I began seeing Joe around town, occasionally; he worked at a record store I frequented. We used to talk, laugh, shoot the shit, and he'd tell me about his plans for life. The last time I saw him had to be right after I turned 18. I remember him telling me that he wanted to go to Paris. I wonder if he ever did.
He was killed, swerving to avoid hitting something in the road, the car overturning and falling into a river, with his best friends, one who died with him, the other escaped with some serious injuries. I know some of you are probably thinking 'Well you haven't seen him for six years. Does it really matter?' Yes, yes it fucking does. Joe always made me feel loved and cared about. He was always genuine; probably the sweetest man you'd ever meet. I am proud and blessed to have known him. I can't stop thinking about him. I hope he knows how much he meant to me. I love you, Joe. I'm sure you know and understand.
I guess why I'm writing this is because I want to tell you all how much I love and adore you. Every single one of you. Please don't ever doubt it. Live everyday like it's your last; be happy, enjoy life. Let yourself love and be loved. And even in your darkest hour, remember that I love you and I'm always here if you need me. Don't ever hesitate. Just call or write. I'll be here, I always am.
Now the bittersweet part....
A dear sweet friend of mine was killed three days before Christmas. I wish I had known, because I would've gone to the service, but when you're not friends with anyone you used to be friends with, how could you possibly know?
Joe Bradbury. I remember the first day I saw him 6'5", big eyes, and a killer smile. Long hair, leather jacket, earrings, a parents worst nightmare. I was, I think 15. I had seen his picture at his sister's house, who was a friend of my friend's and asked 'Who the hell is that gorgeous creature?' Well, beyond my wildest dreams, she set me up with him. I remember we were 'supposed' to be at this school play, but we just walked around my high school campus, and down to the elementary school, where we walked around, and held hands.
I was head over heels, he came over for dinner one night, I remember we were sitting in the living room and he had his arms around me. He had that distinct leather smell to him, cleanliness and leather. My dad yelled 'I'm going out in the garage' and Joe whispered 'And I'm going out with your daughter' We laughed, and he left a little bit later. Not before I walked him out to his car, and he kissed me, my first kiss. With this beautiful sweet, wouldn't hurt a fly rebel of a man. We saw each other for a while, and then he met my best friend, Rhiannon. They fell completely in love. I got over the heartache, and we were all friends. My parents hated Rhiannon. So we couldn't see each other. I remember how badly I wanted to see her the night of his prom. Joe was so good to me. He came and knocked on my door in his tux, we said we were taking a walk, and I got to wish them both off.
When I changed schools, I lost touch with both Rhiannon and Joe. I began seeing Joe around town, occasionally; he worked at a record store I frequented. We used to talk, laugh, shoot the shit, and he'd tell me about his plans for life. The last time I saw him had to be right after I turned 18. I remember him telling me that he wanted to go to Paris. I wonder if he ever did.
He was killed, swerving to avoid hitting something in the road, the car overturning and falling into a river, with his best friends, one who died with him, the other escaped with some serious injuries. I know some of you are probably thinking 'Well you haven't seen him for six years. Does it really matter?' Yes, yes it fucking does. Joe always made me feel loved and cared about. He was always genuine; probably the sweetest man you'd ever meet. I am proud and blessed to have known him. I can't stop thinking about him. I hope he knows how much he meant to me. I love you, Joe. I'm sure you know and understand.
I guess why I'm writing this is because I want to tell you all how much I love and adore you. Every single one of you. Please don't ever doubt it. Live everyday like it's your last; be happy, enjoy life. Let yourself love and be loved. And even in your darkest hour, remember that I love you and I'm always here if you need me. Don't ever hesitate. Just call or write. I'll be here, I always am.