I Can’t Finish This Because It Keeps Making Me Cry

You were something that happened to me. You still are.

You loved me when I didn’t deserve it. You loved me through my anxiety and my worries, the things neither of us could understand.  Things I still don’t. Things you have now caught and don’t understand. Things I am now helping you understand.

You spent every day trying to make me see me how you saw me. You carried my bag for me, just because. You held my feet at night when they were cold. Your arms were so long. I stitched notes in your pockets and you left trails of letters for me from the front door. You gave me the good pillow even though the bad one hurt your neck. You became a better version of yourself for me.

We came around a tight corner one time; the car in the opposite direction took it too wide and fast. I woke to the screeching of brakes and your arm pinned across my chest like a second seat belt. I barely moved. You nearly went through the windscreen. You held my life in your hands most days. I trusted you with it. I still do. Even when you made me go down ski runs that made my goggles fog with tears. You got me to the bottom.

You said you worried you squashed me, that you didn’t want to hold me down anymore. I was little to you. You didn’t squash me. I just misplaced me in you. You were so big. There was so much to swim in. And I stopped swimming for myself, I just floated along. I let your currents sweep me up and a little bit of me drained away. 

We saw the world together. Heaps of it. I felt safe in the most unsafe places with you. Thunder that shook our van was ok. Lockless doors felt locked at night. A bad trip was ok with your hand sweating in mine. You bounded around like a Labrador and pulled me with you. You made winter feel like summer and rain feel like fun. We got stuck in a street flood in the early hours of a boozy walk home. It was pouring and you got down on one knee and told me one day you’d do this for real. I pulled you up off your knees and we stood in the rain a while. Drenched. Cold. But I clung to the summer in you; you are my winters warm. You lived for my happiness. Every decision for me. But you misplaced your ideas, you drifted away in me too. Our currents were so strong, they were growing independent of each other. They started to feel like rips and somewhere in Peru I thought maybe we were both drowning

We made promises to each other in front of our friends and family. We signed on it. Bought some jewellery for it. We never plan to break those. You will always be my best friend. Even if we never see each other again. I don’t know when I will. Sometimes I don’t even know where you are. That feels weird.

We hugged goodbye in our kitchen in the dark. Our toes touching. A wet patch on your tee where my face was. But you’ll always feel like home. Like Summer.  I’ll always feel a little bit of myself floating in your currents. Even if our seas are real different now. Even if we find new boats and creatures and things to drift along with; new life rafts to hang on to.  Even if the rain isn’t as fun and my winters aren’t so warm. Even if everyone thinks we’re not ok. Even when everyone tells us to stop being friends.  Fuck them. I got you in pocket and you got my feet in your hands.  You’re my best friend. 

Oh, and, I finished this. And I stopped crying. Don’t worry.