I wish I could hold you again, to make you understand how important you were.
I’d tell tell you how good a man that I thought you were. How lucky I was to be your friend.
I’d have parties so we could dominate as beer pong champions and I could watch you laugh.
I’d clean and organize all my stuff in the garage so you could have a space all your own.
I’d remind you more often to go see your mom.
I’d take more time during my day to see how you were doing.
I’d buy sweets and keep the pantry stocked.
I’d records videos all the time.
I’d take time off work to travel and we would have rode Route 66 together on the bikes.
I’d make you dance with me more often.
I’d rub your back every single night, as long as you wanted.
I’d watch all the horror movies with you.
I’d buy buckets of paintballs and schedule games once a month.
I’d go to the range and blow through boxes of ammo with you.
I’d ask more about your dreams and what you still wanted to do in life.
It’s the small stupid things that haunt me. All the things that seemed so unimportant or wrongly assuming that we would have decades together to get it all done.
I grieve the future that I lost with you.
I grieve what could have been, what should have been.
My life is still shattered. The pieces are still laying all around me as I sit there. Bleeding from a million regrets that slice into my skin.
I ache for you, for who we were, for who I was.
I miss your simple texts when you were out with your friends.
“Still alive, my love”……
Words that you knew would make me feel instantly better and know that you were ok.
I have your last text message thread saved.
You sent it just a few hours before I got the call that you were gone.
The last thing you said to me when I said I was going to bed.
I wish I had replied that I loved you, but you knew that. You had always known that.