It was a brisk Sunday afternoon.
You called me that day
You sounded frightened
I answered the phone with your average
"Hello?"
Even though I knew something was wrong.

You paused a moment,
So I thought you didn't hear me.
"Sarah?"
(You always start that way when you're serious)

"Yes?"
"Mydadjustpassedaway"
All in one breath, and then you broke down into tears
As if all of the pressure building up inside your lungs
Was released with one single puncture.

Your voice shook and quivered
And I knew you were crying.
You were never one to get emotional
So I started crying with you.

I was breathless, speechless
I began agonizing too.
And you could tell
Because you begged me to stop weeping.
I got angry with myself

You must have been going through unimaginable heartache
And you were the one pleading with me to stop crying?
You were the one who had just lost your dear father
And you were telling me we would get through this?
This is all backwards.

After this, we went through a series of
"I know" "It's okay" and "I love you"
However, only one of those even rang true at the time.
I didn't know anything, including what to say
And it was not okay, at least not yet
But I did love you, and do
And that was all I wanted you to know.

I had worried, for many days
Since he had become sick, I was scared for you
Since he has passed, I still am scared for you
But you give me no reason to be
As you are handling all of this so graciously.

How is this so?
You must be weighed down by this tragedy
And you make it look like
The world isn't that heavy at all.

Everything is moving
But I'm standing still.
Bouncing, up and down
Tilting, side to side
Spinning, in circles
I think I'm getting motion sickness.

Everything is moving
But I'm standing still.
Slowly, as if it's lagging along
And the world's passing me by.
Quickly, at speeds of 100 miles an hour
And I can't keep up anymore.
It's leaving me behind.

Everything is moving
But I'm standing still.
Now the motor's getting louder
And I can't shut it up.
Fast, slow, silent, deafening
When will it end?
I am ready to get off this ride.

How am I supposed to let you go?
There's so much I should have said
So much I should have done
Had we remained close
Could I have kept you around?

Had I held your hand through all of this
Had I tried to keep you away
From the things that destroyed you
Had I helped you when I knew
Had I tried to get back in touch
Would things have ended differently?

I hate the possibility that maybe they could have.
I hate feeling that even if it was a tiny , almost invisible
Chance that I could have saved you
That I didn't.

Part of me remembers
That while maybe I should have protected you
I was battling my demons simultaneously.
It kills me that I was able to overcome mine
That I still have the option to fight
And you don't.

Why is saying goodbye
So outside of the realm of human comfort?
Is it even okay to move on?
If I could say one thing to you
I would beg and plead
"Please don't go."

They never tell you how to feel
When a childhood best friend
Accidentally overdoses on some unknown contraband
At seventeen.

You have to learn for yourself
That it feels like
You're here
But you're not.
You're in pain
But it's not real.
That it's not happening
But it is.

We hadn't talked in a good deal of time
And yet, now it seems like time has run out.
My head feels like it's spinning in circles
But why?

Because I remember you
Playing in the street
With your edgy yet strangely appealing
Sense of humor that drew everybody to you.

Because I remember you
Teaching me to wear makeup
Building fortresses in the woods
We shared behind our houses.
Back then, we were obsessed with Chris Brown
And "With You" was rattling off our lips

Because I remember you
When you found out that I had been violated
In the worst way possible.
When you found out I had cut myself for the first time
Which, for what it's worth, I don't do anymore
And that you cared, always
Even at eleven or twelve.

Because I remember you as pure.
You are not your addiction
For you will always be an innocent
In my mind's eye.

Things
Are
Bad
Right
Now.

(so why can't I fix them?)

I've been told
There is more than enough of me
But will I ever be enough?

Worth is not measured by body mass
In fact,
It seems nearly the opposite.
Worth is measured by how much
You are willing to lose yourself
To conform with society.

You once were a mitten
When you emerged from your mother's womb
Perfectly and intricately woven
With no other quite like you.

You loosely resembled our culture's standards
Based on the actions of your superiors.

As you evolved into a young person
Your peers seem to sneer
So you change your clothes
Change your hair
Maybe then they'll like you
Maybe then you'll be okay

You become a latex glove
Each one the same
Skin tight and molded to fit
Society's overbearing fingers.

You lost yourself
As the words
"Too fat"
"Too ugly"
And
"Worthless"
Penetrated your impressionable mind

And so now
It would seem
That you are perfect for
Our army of robots
One by one
Marching to the media's drum
Same song over and over again

So make the choice
Tell yourself that whether
Your mental and physical densities
Happen to be subpar
Or if they are more than enough
That you are enough
For you.

I love ***,
But I hate love.