I was driving in my truck alone, feeling the same way I did that day like

I was embarrassed by myself trying to remember you. A stranger picking me back up.

And methinking how I could ever repay you.

Mostly I remember sending over your coffin thinking “oh god. I could never make it up to him. I ran out of time.”

So I was at a stoplight, dangerously driving with my emotions fall in my truck on E.

When my radio shut off and my body washed over with the same feeling I got when you reached out.

And I smelled your cologne, it filled my air conditioner

My sorrow left me and now I crave the thought of you watching me and my mind keeping it at peace.

Lmd

Date: unknown

And that’s when I realized that there are no true excuses that could ever be pardoned from a persons lack of love. Whatever their mind can possibly muster up to tell you why they haven’t done their part in the friendship is utter bullshit. Because everybody gets busy but isn’t busy every second of the day, because everyone does go through a tough day, and because unfortunate things happen when they may and it won’t be your fault.

However, the fact you feel the need to even try to answer a rhetorical question mask by the true hurt of someone who not only enjoyed your company but likes to keep updated on your life, is your fault.

You shove all the genuine people away, the ones who help you make changes in your life because they want what’s best for you, and then you go on a tyrant about how there are no true friends anymore?

I know people simply attempt a mask it Up by stating it is a mere factoid in the suckiness of growing up, when it is not. It is a misjudgment do to your teenage drama in your teenage selfishness who will stay in that teenage state of mind until your teenage 40 year old self takes a good look at the mess they made wishing they could change it.

Excuses are trying to cover up the true fact about why you couldn’t so graciously act like a decent human being To someone who invested their hole into you and “shockingly “wanted it back. When yet, indeed you will be the one who turns around, cries wolf, and is now deemed the broken one all because you had a friend who got tired of all of your shit and left.

Whoa, is you for being the person to set yourself up and let yourself fall.

I, don’t believe in excuses.

Lmd

4/5/15

The window sill no longer held it’s opague color, instead, the begining stages of morning colored the vertical panels a pale pink.

The birds chirped seconds after one another calling for each other.

The shadows once again appeared on the opposite walls, and I breathed in a shallow breath realizing that the world never stopped for anyone.

The world will keep going rather you’re conscious or not. And I choose then to see the world for the first time, without any light.

Sand was everywhere as we made our way down the shore line. It was something about the calming sounds of the ocean that quieted the war raging on in my head to a silent peaceful place. The waves crash down and carry my troubles away with them as I stare at her. She was so beautiful.

She walked along the shore line beside me, shoes in hand, looking at the beautiful landscape surrounding us and avoiding my gaze. I couldn’t help but look at her, no makeup on and glowing in the moonlight.

The night time took its toll on both of us, for her it brought demons out to play. The deeper she swam to get away, the easier it was for them to pull her under. Except, I won’t let her drown in the sorrow that keeps her up at night, so instead I wade into the waters as her protector.

I knew how she felt, lost and unable to call for help as the water filled her lungs. Fortunately, I was able to read the signs before she strayed too far from shore and I brought her to my favorite place to think, the beach. I knew that she needed company, not necessarily a conversation, and I truly cared for her.

We sat there on the shore line staring up at the stars until the stars dissolved into the morning sky, and then we watched the horizon as it began to light up bright reds and oranges revealing that another night has past. Her head lay on my shoulder and as she gazed into the sunlight admiring the burst of colors emitting from the sky.

She clung to me like a life vest, unwilling to die within the chaos of the water. She wanted to live, I could see it in the way that she looked at me, I think that’s why she hardly does, because she doesn’t quite know how to. I do and until I figure out how to express it to her, I’ll keep swimming in after her offering her a new breath of air.

 

It was beautiful, the way she slept. Her golden hair scattered around her head which lay on her pillow, her stillness reminded me of death in a silent way. When her chest slowly rose in a breathing rhythm, the emotionless expression she displayed on her face, the way she managed to sleep in the most awkward position and take up the full-sized bed, and the way she whispered my name in a dream as if she knew I crept in to check on her.

Taking in this image of her sleeping body only brought me wishful thinking. I wanted the privilege to brush her hair out of her face, make her flush with laughter, compliment what she is most insecure about or even be able to smell her morning breath.

Love makes you do crazy things, crazy, small, unnoticeable everyday things. I find myself stuttering or slurring my words, being too aware of my breathing pattern, dropping everything I tried to hold or saying the stupidest things- anything for her attention even if it was just a moment’s glance. Just because that was enough, it was enough to hold eye contact or just be in her company, but I fell asleep on the empty cooler side of the bed where I wanted her to be.

All I wanted was to make a difference, a difference in the way she viewed herself and how she viewed the world. The flaws, slightly off teeth, a bump in her nose from where she broke it twice, a scar from a battle with her demons, more pudge on her stomach than she wanted, stubby fingers, her high-pitched voice, they were the things I oved the most. It was what made her, her.

But the pain, from everything that she has gone through- I wanted to take it all. I wanted to carry her burdens. The mistakes, I want her to not regret a single one because I don’t. Mistakes were what drove us together. I’ve spent the last seven years with her and I wish I could have told you how many stars I wished on, night I spend praying, or magic eight ball questions I’ve asked about having you.

But I could tell you how it unfair it feels to have you here, in my spare bedroom, and not actually have you. Although, it beats wondering who you are with and what you’re doing there. Despite those feelings she bottles up for a late-night crying session, she was perfect.

She was perfect to me when she got so mad she resulted to violence, when she got so frustrated that she would cry, and when she would laugh so hard a snort would slip out. Most nights I would think “    I’d love her for eternity” and other nights, “Would I be enough for her?”. Of all things I wanted more than having her, was for her to be happy.

Even if that means she fell in love with a guy who could give her all she wanted, all she deserved because I couldn’t. But, I would give her all that I had. Because even though she curses like a sailor, prays like a nun, and acts like a punk, she needed to be treated like a princess.

Like all princesses, she needed a true prince, a castle, and a happily ever after. All I was, was a regular old toad, a toad waiting down beside a highway to get squashed and painted across the whole, lane for people to try and avoid running over.

I stood over her now slightly, pulling the covers up on her shaking body just slowly enough so that she doesn’t wake only so I can stand there for a few more passing moments. She turned in her slumber, facing away from me now. I glanced at the way that she clenched her pillow as if life depended on it and all I could think about were her eyes.

The deep blue color resembled a lake I wanted to swim in or drown. I let these thoughts float in my head because in reality- I was noting to her. She’d wake up how she always would, by herself, the sun shining through the curtains of the window that her bed faced, she’d crack her back, slip slippers on, and come down my staircase, smelling my coffee.

Now, I may or may not be her love interest, college, or friend but she was still in my life and I’ll settle pouring her coffee if it meant one more morning I got to see her sleepy gaze.

There is a crater in my world, covered in wreckage and debris. My body goes from on half to the next slowly picking up what got left behind.

The pieces, however, are too broken down to even begin to put back together. Keeping them seems rather pointless too because they no longer fit me.

Staring at the sight before me, I can determine one thing: The impact was greater than the fall.

And I fell.

I fell despite knowing where it would lead me and where you would go. I knew it’d be silent and lonely with no guarantees of after.

The view was so beautiful, and the air made me feel like I was flying. Now, I don’t know where I am at or where I am going.

I can just tell you, it was worth it.

Suddenly, I crave you. I crave your skin on my skin. The electricity that soared from your fingertips onto my body making me feel like a shining star.

I never realized how easy it was to just- be with someone. Trembling straying hands searching new areas, discovering warmth under your touch.

Lips softly pressed against my own in a gentle touch, then wandering along my chin, face, and soon my neck. Innocence is lost as soon as clothes are sliding off.

Tangled, limb in limb bunched up in sheets not belonging to myself. Sparks flying, every color in sight exploding before my very eyes and sighing in satisfaction.

I’ll soak it up, every moment of you caressing my skin as I hum in approval. I’ll never want to leave your bed.

Unfortunately, I was never there. My bed lay perfectly tucked in to my body as the cold encircles me. The sun shines in on my eyes and I won’t bother to close the curtain.

So, I’ll stay here. My head is swimming with the thought of us drowning in one another’s company. You’re gone, so the ghost of you will have to do.

I’m wide awake staring at the wooden blade on the fan as it circles around and around emitting a low humming that filled my mind with nonsense.

Here I was, in someone else’s bed, when I’d rather be in yours. The flannel sheets cover my chest to my toes hiding away all of the shame and defeat.

All I was doing was occupying space, gaining comfort in those who willingly gave it, and passed the time away.

Another day was gone, still alone as the first. No sleeping body lay next to me, no sound of anyone wandering the house.

It was just me, alone with my thoughts living in the empty space of my own head.