A late reply

Of the time it took to write this story, only some of it was truly used for writing...the rest was used to remember the actions of that day...the day we fell from grace. Of the tears on these papers, only a few were willfully given, the rest, torn from my eyes. Of the goodbyes in this letter, only one is meant...
The one I give to her...
During an autumn sunset, not many people look around at the world and think that everything has going to go to hell today, they are all to busy trying to make it through the rest of the day. No one has the time every day to look for a sign of the end. And no one goes into each day looking to make their own life worse, what would be the point? It is already hard enough to see the better parts in life, why cloud those few visions with even more sadness? Maybe somewhere there was someone trying to keep that sun from setting like it did, to try and keep daylight for just a few more seconds. Tried to keep everyone alive for those last precious moments, so we could all be saved.
But they had failed....
The sunset came, in shades of purple and pink, as the bottom of the sun touched the mountaintops. There was nothing special about this one sunset, nothing to set it apart from any others. It would come and go, and it would be taken for granted again, like all the others. Only those in love, and watching it, would remember this sunset from the rest. But on that day, only two of such people were watching it. One boy and one girl.
One boy and one girl...staring at a blood red sun, letting it soak over them, letting themselves soak it up... they may have been on a hill, overgrown with grass. Or maybe they were on the riverbed, with their toes in the water, falling in love like the leaves fall. Yes...that had to have been it...
But leaves never fell in pairs, as these two did, leaves never fell far from where they leapt.
But these two did...
I tried forgetting that sunset, forever, so that I wouldn’t have to write about it for the rest of those who never saw it. To remember the sunset meant to remember who I spent it with, who I watched it with...
Who it tore me from...
Sometimes I would go back, to that place...to look at the spot on the grass, forever stained from the sunset. Some believed it was the blood of the girl, staining the grass, but none of them ever saw that day, or saw the sunset. I would go back, to find something to help me forget, or maybe I went back to keep from forgetting. I don’t know anymore. Going back feels so much like falling down, because it just puts me further from where I was...
I don’t know how many people smiled at that moment, but I know one did. One girl smiled, with the happiness of a hundred people, with the happiness of love. But she was the only one I know that smiled, or that laughed on that night. I’m sure others did as well, maybe even for the same reasons. But I don’t know. I only know that she smiled...and it was burned onto my memory forever, something someone would never try to, nor wish to forget, because it was a beauty beyond any others.
And maybe somewhere, someone is trying to forget that sunset, for the same reason I am remembering it, but I doubt it.
Some things aren’t meant to be forgotten.
I don’t remember much from the rest of that day, because none of it mattered, I never even cared, you never think about the moment when your heart is waiting for you at the end of the day, when your mind is hundreds of steps ahead of your body. And you never really worry about what is going on, or what is going to happen, not even when it’s happening, because sometimes, some days are worth all the pain the world can offer you. This was a day like that, where the only parts worth remembering are the ones spent with the person who makes life worth living.
Like she did...
Maybe no one ever noticed her like I did...maybe I was the only one who ever tried everything he though of to get to her. But then, wouldn’t that make her worth even more? Yes, I think so...and maybe no one ever saw me like she did...as someone to try everything she could to keep from falling in love with, because she maybe thought she could get hurt. And maybe she would...the boy was never very trusted by anyone but her...and maybe she didn’t even trust him, but he liked to think she did. She was his best friend, his favorite person in the world. He told her everything, he even let her glimpse his past, but he never showed her why he was like he is. He didn’t know if he could.
Maybe that’s what caught up to her and helped her fall in love, the fact that I was so different from everyone and at the same time, I was just like her.
Maybe it was for a different reason completely...
I don’t want to ask, for fear it was something different, but for whatever reason she may have fallen in love, they were there, on the riverbank at that sunset. Holding hands and laughing.
Being in love...
I remember her perfectly, her red hair was curly and pulled back in a ponytail, because she hated it always being in her eyes. I remember her eyes...they were silver...like the morning sky...they were misty and clouded, trying to keep people from seeing into her, and maybe I was the only one who could catch glimpses of her soul, Maybe I wasn’t. All I know is that I was in love and nothing would convince me otherwise...
And the sun continued setting...
It wasn’t a different sunset, maybe even too normal for the occasion. Skies turned purple, then pink, then red...as red as her hair as she lay on the bank, letting the last rays of the sun and her strands of hair color the grass, showing that an angel had touched it.
Because I knew that is what she was...
Maybe she had lost her halo because of some terrible ting that had happened to her, maybe she was hiding her wings from the world, but I still knew she was to perfect, to sweet, to beautiful to be anything less...
To be anything like me...
And I continued falling in love, just sitting there, leaned back, looking at the last sliver of the sun, locking my fingers tight with hers and hearing her breathe. That must have been what heaven is... that must be what it will be like when I arrive.
No, this was better..
Nothing was said that evening, no words to describe how we felt, no useless attempts at capturing the others attention. We already had it, and each other. We kissed. Perhaps not a special kiss, or one worthy of movies to come, but no one ever said that love had to be made perfect, because it always was. The kiss was perfect for us, to be made on that sunset, it was maybe even a story worthy of being written...The only day of mine I could have ended with "Happily Ever After"...


These stories were written two years apart.




There are so many things you wish that you could get back,
But you know you’ll never find again.
A friend that you gave away,
And locked away in one motion.
Then you swallowed the key to both.
It doesn’t matter how much crap you go through, you’ll never find it again.


Do I feel this way because I miss you, or do I finally realize, while trying to find love in another, that once I loved you. I can’t seem to recognize love when it’s looking me in the eye, holding my hand, or even cradled in my arms. I only seem to see the love I hold for someone when that someone is completely lost for me. Has it really taken me that long to realize that I love you… or loved you. Because you are no longer the person I knew. The boy that used to follow me around, the boy that broke my best friends heart, the boy that lives with his love…

Where do I fit into your memories? Was I just a momentary fling, when for so long I thought I was all you ever thought about. I remember once you said you would always love me, regardless of how you managed to move on, and I still am the same child. I never lied when I said I was afraid to love. It wasn’t a mere excuse, even though at the time I believed it was. Now I know my fear is crippling, sending thoughts of never loving through my soul, almost pushing me to the edge of a steep cliff. You know my clumsiness, if I get to close I’m liable to fall right in.

But this letter isn’t about right now. Because right now I have another boy who would follow me. He doesn’t write to me like you used to, but he doesn’t write…he doesn’t feel right. Then again, when I could have had you, you didn’t feel right. Only now, when the you I knew doesn’t even exist anymore, do you feel so right to me. I keep dreaming of a distant future, when I come home and find you here. The you I lost so long ago.

Do you remember when we used to dream of distant futures together. When I turn 16 I said, and you said that you’d be around. You were for awhile, and I was still waiting for everything to feel right. Maybe I just need to realize that things aren’t meant to feel right, or okay…maybe I was always meant to feel like I was struggling down the wrong path, with sweat and tears and anger as my company, only to emerge where I began.

Maybe all those dread things wouldn’t be my only company. I don’t know, I’ve never truly ventured.

Remember when we dreamed of a distant future, in which you and I ran away from this town together. I could never bring myself to run away, to disappoint, I’m too “straight edge” for that, too “straight edge” for you. I used to convince myself I wasn’t what you wanted, but maybe I was convincing myself you weren’t what I wanted.

All these words keep spilling out. Remember that story you wrote me? It was a goodbye. We had many goodbyes that I remember clearly, but I can’t remember our single Hello. Time seems to pass insanely fast while reminiscing, yet it went so slow while dreaming.

So the question is, am I writing this because I think you will ever read it? I don’t think I’d ever have the guts to give it to you. I don’t know if I could even give it to you, at least to the you I am writing this for.

Maybe I’m writing this because Simon reminds me so of you, in ways that I can’t explain. You’re nothing alike really. But maybe it’s the way I feel when I think about actually loving him that reminds me of you, or just reminds me of the way I felt when I thought the same things about you. So in the end will I find that I loved Simon, but only when I’ve lost him?

I could be writing this because I’ve had too much time to think. Thinking was never an activity that got me anywhere besides more lost. I shouldn’t be allowed to be alone so much, but I can’t stand to be in company for so long…

Just thinking about giving this to you almost makes me smile. Not in a happy sense, but I can picture you taking one look at it and throwing it away. It’s about time you threw thoughts of me away, I was never good enough for you. I was never good enough to you.

Why should I ever dream of a future with you in it. I had my chance and I folded before my entire hand was dealt. Do you remember bus rides? I remember listening to Alanis Morisette’s “Head Over Heels.” You looked at me as we listened to it together, as if I was trying to convey message through the head phones. Truth be told I wasn’t sure if I was or if I wasn’t. This is such a pointless letter that I’m considering rereading just so that it gets read at least once…

Oddly enough that song is playing right now…

So should I end it here? I’d come back to it another day, when I feel this way again. One day when we’re old, if you haven’t OD, or killed yourself with a knife, maybe I’ll let you read the finished product, if it will ever be finished. Because I don’t think I’ll ever let you go. I’m not strong enough to forget, not smart enough to realize that I never had a hold of you.

“Some things aren’t meant to be forgotten.”

Your words, not mine. A story you wrote about us. It was fiction, a dream.

“The only day of mine I could have ended with ‘Happily Ever After’…”
And it was just a dream. I always said I hated waking up.
But I still have that story...

The thought of even daring to give this to you seems cruel. To bring back memories, but perhaps I’m the only one that’s kept them. You’ve probably forgotten them by now, I should do that same.

I just want to talk to you again, like we used to…I miss you. Maybe all these feelings and thoughts of love all stem from that missing you, and I just miss your friendship. I think most of all I miss knowing you, because I don’t know you at all.

People say that love just comes from being around a person so long you can’t stand to be without them.