Pictures of places I'll probably never see again, friends I no longer speak to, times and relationships that are lost but that still have a place in my heart too dear to me for words. Re-reading words I wrote so long ago. A more innocent and care-free me who doesn't deal with the same stress and worry that I carry now.
Her burdon seems so much easier to me. I can't compare my two selves because everything was so different back then. I'll never know how things would be had I made different choices, but I wonder about it sometimes.
It makes me think... walking back through my own life.
I can hear the ocean again. I can hear the French farmers rioting and the German kids screaming when their country won another football game in the World Cup.
I can almost see those places when I think about it. I can smell them. And the people... the cats and cigarettes and laundry detergent... I can hear Jake crying in the next room, only a few months old again.
I can hear Emily and Brittany laughing by the lake on the day we met. I remember Lake Erie with nothing but fondness and loving thoughts. I met my family there.
I can watch my brother walking away, not to come home for 2 long years. That was the first day he ever really hugged me and told me he loved me.
I can remember the sight of the scars, Mell, when you showed them to me for the first time.
I can remember you, Amelia, telling me you almost jumped off the scaffolding back in 11th grade.
I can remember you, Zack, getting drunk and telling me more about your ex-girlfriends than I ever needed to know.
I remember painting your daughter's room, Missi, and suffering through the August heat with laughter and a small feeling of accomplishment.
I remember our kiss in the rain. I remember telling you how soft your hands were, how smooth. You laughed and said girls are silly and I didn't even mind. Your presence just made me smile, even though I thought that would be the last time I saw you. You whom I promised to forget.
I remember you, Celeste, leaving your daughter in my arms while you ran off with some man, not telling me when or if you'd be back and not leaving me any instructions at all. Not even a phone number.
I remember, Wesley, when you told me she was pregnant and all our friends hated you. She told me you loved me and thought of me when you were with her. I felt violated by your thoughts, but you wanted my sympathy and understanding. And I gave it to you.
I remember, Scar, when you asked me to run away with you. I'm sorry I couldn't. I would have loved to. I miss you so much. I'll never forget the day I helped you pack your life away in the back of a beat-up minivan, wishing your life would be better once you finally got away from your abusive mother.
I remember the dark hotel room, late at night in the middle of a convention when we really talked for the first time. So much has happened to us since then, hasn't it Donald? I wish things were easier for us both.
I remember the first time I heard your voice, Bill. You'll never know it, but it touched my heart in ways you'll never know. Your music was a comfort to me when I felt very alone. It... I don't even have the words. You got me through a very dark time in my life and I will always love you for that.
I remember watching a random and amazing movie with you, Sam and Forrest, laughing through it and quoting it for weeks afterward. Melinda always seemed like such a wonderful name after that.
I'm sorry I called you a pansy, Garrett, the last time I saw you. That was over two years ago now. You're one of the strongest men I know and I'm so honored to call you my friend. I love you so much and I'm glad we're still writing one another.
Sheldon... I didn't know how much I needed you when we met. You did so much for me and I feel so selfish and dense looking back at it. But I think you needed me too. I kept you from being a complete hermit haha. Every time I think back, I either laugh or want to cry. We had an amazing year together, didn't we? I think you're right. Our friendship is the kind that can survive just about anything, even a zombie apocalypse. That will start in northern Canada. I'll write to you soon.
I remember you, Tom, being little more than a voice on the phone that meant more to me than anything in the world. I'm sorry things aren't going to work out the way you would like. I don't have the strength to save you anymore.
I remember so many things. So many hard and painful things. So many nights when I didn't sleep, when I was curled up and crying in the corner but was too afraid to say anything about the demons in my head. I was never crazy, but I was dealing with so much when I was so young. I'm surprised I survived it.
I'll never forget when my brother told me he knew I wasn't alright back then. I want to forget the hurt in my heart when I swallowed my words and didn't ask why he said nothing.
I wish my history were less depressing and miserable sounding. I try not to remember it but when I do it all comes rushing back to me.
I should stop talking about this. It's depressing.
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