If I could have just one more conversation with you, that would be enough. Every now and again I get deep pangs of regret and sorrow for how I lost one of my closest friends. The feelings tend to wash over me when I'm listening to a melancholy album, or in the quiet moments of an evening, they come in like waves breaking on my heart.
I miss the nights that we would sit around my room, unravelling the mysteries of each other's mind, all under the guise of studying for a college midterm final. We were two people content with each others company in the waiting room of adolescence. We would talk about life and love until until it hurt to stay awake. We would sleep in each others arms, our bodies providing enough warmth to keep this world comfortable for eternity.
The moments when we were happiest felt like being submerged in deep, warm waters. No matter how hard the world tried it couldn't reach us from the surface. All that pain and torment we grew up with was a distant echo. We were young and invincible together. A model for all of creation.
When the bad thing started to happen you were there with your hand in mine. Even when you couldn't reach my physically I could feel you there at the precipice of that cliff. I want you to know that the things I said to you, the words that drove you away, were my attempt to keep you from falling in with me. At least that was the intention. I did not intend to hurt you the way I did. If I could take the pain back I would. I'd gladly trade that pain for this cross I bear.
I can't erase the image of you, radiant and perfect, from my mind. It's burned in to the my brain, the details fade but the ghost image lingers. The fact that you do not inhabit any space on the internet is its own special brand of torture to me. I'll never forgive myself for burning all the photos of us in my mothers fire pit. I worry that enough windy winter nights will steal the memory of you, and one day I'll wake up and forget that you exist.
I want to reach out over the miles that separate us and touch your face, just for a moment. Just to be reassured that you exist. That all the moments we shared were real. Because I'm starting to have my doubts.
If I could hear your voice, that would be enough. If I could make you laugh again, that would sustain me for years. I'm scared that this regret is going to eat away all the love that I have left. Your laughter would wash away the shame, give me a reprieve from this life sentence.
I'd hate for you to see how jaded I've become. I often wonder what you'd think about me if we did meet again. Would you notice that the flame in my soul has been muted? Would you look at me with pity, like an animal that needs to be put out of it's misery? How would you feel about the weight I put on, and the hair that I've lost?
Sometimes, when I'm writing I, ask myself what you would think about my first stabs at fiction sense the bad thing happened. I've been trying to find the perfect combination of words to conjure you back into my life. Every day I try. Every day I fail. I keep believing that there is a way to undo the harm I've caused, it's just on the edge of my capabilities, not matter how much I strain.
You will never stop being my muse. When everything is going well and all the distractions around me disappear; when it's just me and the work, I swear I can feel your presence in the room. I chase this feeling everyday like the world's most perfect drug. To be submerged in those warm, peaceful waters is bliss. You are my bliss.
If there was message I could leave on your machine it would tell you that I'm not so broken anymore. The dark skies have cleared, and things are getting better. I'm glad you weren't there for when things got really bad. I'll always hate myself for pushing you away, but I couldn't live with myself if you saw what lurked at the bottom of that well.
The other night I dreamed of you getting married. You were radiant at the alter. Your hair was set ablaze in the rays of sunlight emanating from the painted glass. Your green eyes lit up the entire chapel, blinding me to everyone but you. You were the image of perfection. I woke in tears, then tried to fall back asleep. All I have left to chase is the dream of you.
Do you dream of me?