It's Okay to Cry.

Who would have thought this would make me want to cry so much? Just the other night I'm missing the past, where you and I would blast "Always Something There to Remind Me" in your green truck down the country roads. Today I find out something I didn't even expect to read. Thoughts in my head are fighting me to find out how you are holding up--if you are. Should I cut this silence with love once again with an intervention? All those months that I cried for you were because I wanted you to experience true happiness--yet I still couldn't help but wish I'd be part of the reason.

It's okay to cry, if you are. I know I will be. All the secrets you shared with me, about your thoughts on the certain people you cared deeply for. Even if you had a hard time showing it, you did show to me. I did see it. You were so affected that you could very well deny it and I wouldn't believe you. I knew you had a soft heart underneath the cold and hard surface that developed over hurtful years. I'd do anything... ANYTHING to see you right now.

But I don't know what anything is.

Blurrier.

Sometimes I forget you for a moment and I'm living a completely different life. Maybe it's what you want me to feel, to know, to think, to be. But all too easily in the silence of my lone self you come rushing at me like a train. I guess I'm still stuck on the fact that you'll eventually cross my path again and my questions will be answered. I'm believing that this is just a season without you, and then I'll get back on that train and continue on with you. I made such small attempts to shove an open door in your face. You never took the bait or responded to the hint. Easily I planted such terrible thoughts about how you may feel or think toward me.

You were once my best friend, and explaining you as the past is not my ideal way to speak. How could two people go from a night spent with laughter and a sincere bond to nothing at all? How could this have been thrown away as easily as it was? You turned around and made the decision I never thought you could. You stood your ground, so determined to make me forget you. You played the part so well, leading me to believe you hated the decision. But you never hated it nearly enough to fix it. For that, I eventually fell apart.

It's so unfortunate for me how you made me feel like I mattered so much. How you paid attention to me even if I was irrational. You got me gifts like you looked highly upon me, and took care of me like you loved me more. You cannot blame me for wanting to be attached to exactly that. You never failed to give me reason to still adore you. But when everything we built came crashing down, I knew I still wanted to love you.

As you become a blurrier vision with each passing day, I wonder tremendously so how it would be to see your smile again.

Nothing?

Often I think that maybe I need one last glimpse of you, followed by a detailed conversation about why you could not speak to me about your decision. I read off text messages and your silent eyes to only barely understand this all before you left me hanging. I've come to know this was not my fault, because if you were still here, I'd still love you. I couldn't have messed up so bad to deserve this, I was on a mission after all. The end hadn't arrived (and still hasn't.) You just weren't ready while I was more than ready.

Maybe by a miracle I made the slightest difference in your life--yes, a miracle. But on the outside you act as though I never entered at all. I may have quietly and unintentionally entered your life four and a half years ago, but I did not want to walk out just as quiet. I wish I understood you, but I guess you never let me...

Importance of You.

I may not understand how we got to where we are, but I most definitely understand how important you always were and are. Our past has the most fondest memories my mind could possibly contain. You loved me well from the beginning by merely paying attention to me. You went out of your way to deliver gifts when I settled to live without them. I remember three specific times, must I remind you?

On a school night you came in pajamas and a blanket after my house got robbed. You brought over a small room heater as a gift you had for me, but it was given on perfect timing after all. I felt so thankful that I had you there.

Another night I craved water and didn't want the tap, but as you suggested I drink it anyway, I did. I fell asleep while you were working late and woke early in the morning, checking my cell phone to see if you sent a message. You did, and you informed me I needed to check outside the front door. Out there I found a little brown bag and brought it to my room quietly. Opening it I found the perfect set of items to cure my water cravings and sickness. I cried with an overwhelmed feeling of joy. Someone cared for me.

Last but not least, I specifically remember the day I was sick without NyQuil, and before you headed to work, you bought me pills and dropped them off. I would never have expected that from a friend, nor would I imagine anyone else suggested to get me it. But you did. Somehow, some way, you were always more than a friend. You went a little further than the others, and paid a little bit more attention to the small things.

If you ask me, those memories are enough to wait for you to come back to me.