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I’ve always wondered if you remembered those nights. The very nights that we would often blow away in silence. We were so comfortable together, did you remember that too? Or did just not think at all?

What is it that you could ever see in me?

I’d always hated questions that opened to an almost endless list answers. Yet you would always ask the same thing. As if the answer I’d given you hadn’t been the one you wanted to hear.

Everything.

You never believed me, after years of the same word. Years of the same nights laid beside one another on a bedroom floor. Eyes closed letting the music we loved pour from the speakers and cover us in what we considered understanding.

I had always blamed them. Those who didn’t take the time to see who you really were under your image. It was their fears and their prejudices that infested the hate and mockery of everything you stood for.

How can you see everything in nothing?

Angered is the only word that could sum up my feelings when I witnessed the effects of their actions.

What do I have to do to make you see what I see?

You were broken, and I couldn’t fix you. I tried; over and over again I tried. I pleaded and wiped your tears until my soul ached and my heart bled with you. I would have found a way to do the impossible if it meant I could fix you.

But how could I even begin to fix you when you didn’t even want to fix yourself?

Sometimes… sometimes I think you’re the only reason I even try anymore.

I never knew how to feel when you would whisper those words. Eyes fixed on the ceiling as I would turn my head to the side and watch you. Was I meant to feel happy? Happy with the fact that it was me that was keeping you around? Or saddened by the idea that out of the entire world I was the only reason you would stay tied to the ground.

I would always wonder where that little boy I had heard so much about had disappeared to. The only proof of his existence was hanging on a wall next to more pictures of your family. Your smile was radiant, so much that your eyes seemed to glow. You were happy, unconditionally so.

Did you think of the time we first met? I was the overly energetic pre-teen that to you was the complete opposite of your younger Brother, my best friend. I had spent the night not knowing you were living in the basement. Running around the corner I smacked right into your side sending us both crashing to the ground.

You were so nice about it that it scared me. Instead of snapping at me like most usually did, you gave me your hand and a sheepish smile. You never said anything not even when it happened again later that day. A laugh was the only thing that had passed your lips with a return of that smile.

I was only twelve but I knew that you were going to be a big part of my life. I just didn’t realize at the time how big that part would be.

love you, you know that right?

Your words were so sincere, yet I couldn’t believe them. You couldn’t love me if you couldn’t even like yourself. It was impossible no matter how hard you tried.
I know, and you should know that I love you too.

You never showed any doubt, and you had no reason to. But you couldn’t tell me you believed me and made me believe you. Like you had said, you were nothing which meant that you were nothing worth to love. If only you could have seen how wrong you were.

Countless times I would force you towards your reflection. Putting the broken shell of beauty that I saw on display for you to see. You would always manage to turn it back around on me.

I’m nothing… you’re just seeing what you want to see. You’re the one who’s perfect.

I wanted to erase the scars that you saw. To strip away the insecurities that had been piled on you over those last few years. To clear you of the doubt that filled your mind and heart. I wanted to fill you with the love that I had. Build you upon the memories that I cherished. To dress you in the confidence that you used to wear before everything came falling down.

You’re just as perfect as me. You just won’t give yourself the chance to see it.

I’d hoped that after you graduated that things would become easier. You had been accepted to that art school you had sought-after for years. You would get the chance to do what you loved, to do what you were skilled at.

Things did get better. That smile would show when I would say your name after spending time apart. That rare blush would appear when I would complement you on anything. I was graced with the laughter that at one point I thought had died.

What would you do if I asked you to marry me?

I had laughed. The timing had been random as we moved into our new apartment. You had pulled me down onto the cluttered couch with a small laugh. At first I’d thought you were joking. But when I looked up and saw the somberness in your eyes there was one word that exploded inside of my chest.

Yes.

If someone had told the twelve year old me that only seven years later I would be engaged to the older brother of my best friend I would have called them a liar. I would have laughed in their face until I couldn’t breathe.

We never made it to the wedding though. The brick wall came out of nowhere and destroyed all of the progress you had made.

They pulled the plug on it. After everything… they said it wasn’t what they wanted.

They had given you your shot and built you up on the hope of your own cartoon. Only to pull the rug out from under your feet at the last minute and push you aside.
Everything you had built, that we had built crashed around you all over again. You locked your smiles, your warmth, and your laughter away. Leaving me with that familiar broken shell who merely went through the motions of life.

There’ll be more chances. Just… don’t give up yet. Okay?

You had already given up. Hiding behind the bottle had wedged between the two of us. Leaving me as the pained bystander trapped behind the invisible wall that you put up around yourself.

They were right… don’t you get it?

It was always the same answer. You fell back into that mindset that you’d had in school. You felt like a failure. You weren’t though.

This has to stop. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Don’t you see what you’re doing?

You had fallen so quick that I didn’t have a chance to catch you. By the time I had reached out with a helping hand it was to touch your cold one.

When I got the call I didn’t know if I should scream in anger or in pain. All I can remember is desperately reaching out for something to keep me up. I had known deep down inside the moment the phone began to ring. You were late, and even in your inebriated state you had still remained punctual. The fake sympathetic voice coming from the other end had only confirmed what had always been my worst fear.

I couldn’t even begin to describe the pain that fueled my urge to crawl inside that furnished box and be buried along with you. I’d always told you that I would follow you to the end of the world. How could I follow you now that you’re gone?

You had beaten your demons. Picked up the head that homophobia had forced down. After everything you had reopened old wounds and died from them.

Now I’m left with too many feet between us. Lying on the cold ground with my head beside where I imagine yours would be. Fingers grasping at the ground wishing it would be your shirt. Ipod turned the loudest it can go and placed beside me. Trying to pretend that we’re back on your bedroom floor.