Story of My Life: The Untold Story of Me

I spent four days in that crisis unit. Most of the time we just sat there watching t.v. and playing apples to apples. I missed home though, and I especially missed Dustin. I knew that I had to get my hands on my phone so that I could talk to him and attempt to make things right.

By the time Monday came around, the doctor told me that I would be leaving that day. I was more than happy, I couldn't wait to go home and cuddle up in my own bed with my dog. As I was about to leave, I remembered that one of the nurses had taken my dirty clothes and sent them to be washed. I went to the front office and asked the present nurse if I could have my clothes back. She asked me ofr a description and after telling her that they were a pair of grey sweatpants and a black multi-colored panda t-shirt, she went out back to see if they were ready.

When she came back, she told me that they couldn't find my clothes.

I started freaking out right then and there.

You see the thing is that the panda t-shirt was a birthday present from Dustin. It used to be his, but since I was always telling him how much I liked it, he decided to give it to me. I felt like I had already lost him and it was the only thing that I had left to remember our friendship by.

If it weren't for those stupid anti-depressents they had me on, I would have cried my eyes out.

But I knew that it would only upset my parents even further, so I tried my best to keep my cool.

I went home that day, grabbed my Ipod touch from by backpack and blasted "Therapy" by All Time Low for the rest of the day. It just seemed to fit my mood and Alex Gaskarth's voice always brings me comfort.

I knew that the next day I would have to face Dustin and apologize for what I had done. It wasn't fair to him, he had done nothing wrong. I was feeling alone and the one persont hat I thought would be there for me, would be him. But in reality he wasn't, and still to this day he isn't. That is just one thing that I will learn to expect from him and sooner or later I will give up all hope on him.

When tuesday rolled around it had gone just as expected. He didn't want to talk to me. He didn't trust me.

I accepted that I had lost him for good and put my feelings into words. I wrote my first of many songs about him called "Forgive Me". It was every apology I wanted to say.

The only thing I had left of that bittersweet friendship, were the memories that circled in my mind whenever I thought of him.

The times he had wanted to take me out of town for a little while, the days we spent in chemistry class, even the times he would call me when he was drunk. Everything about him drew me in, only to be pushed away once again.

But I would always forgive him, no matter what he did wrong.