apologies from you are unheard of.
so when you apologized, i was shocked.
i immediately forgave you. i felt so relieved.
because, brandon...when we're on point, we're on point.
you're either nothing to me, or one of my favorite people.

i know which one i prefer, but it's so hard.
you're so abrasive, and i don't roll over and take it anymore.
i've changed a lot, and i don't want to be treated badly anymore.
i've told you before i love you, and i mean it. you just hurt me, a lot.

i'm sorry you don't approve of some of my actions.
just please trust me, i know what i'm doing.
i have my reasons. i'm doing the best i can.
i don't like disappointing you, but i have no choice.
this is who i am now, and if you don't want to be friends, well.
i won't understand. i won't like it. i won't say it's okay.
but i'll accept it, like i accepted your apology. carefully, but quickly.

the apology even hurt, because of what you followed it with.
i threw the apology and the forgiveness away, until today.
but i talked to your mom, and she reminded me of who you really are.
and i miss him, so i'm throwing away the **** we've said lately.
i'm wiping our slate clean, in my head.
will you accept it?

i find it strange that i'm writing this letter to you.
but it kind of showcases our friendship.
all it was was an innocent kiss on your hand.
but i kissed you, instead of you kissing me [on the cheek].
so here we go.

it's like every word you say has an extra meaning.
every touch you steal or demand has an extra feeling.
so when you said, "kiss it, make it better," i wondered.
i wondered what exactly i was making better for you.

it could, of course, just be that you hit your hand on my pool steps.
but that was all you, anyway. i thought you were tackling me.
not hugging me.

but then again, it could, of course, be you were looking for a reaction.
if that's the case, i wish i knew why. i think i'm pretty clear on what i want.
you're the one complicating things, you know.
keep your mischievous eyes to yourself.
keep your troublesome lips closed.

god forbid we do anything we'd be ashamed of.

i'm not sure i know your name yet.
and if i do, i probably won't realize it for awhile.
but thank you, whoever you are,
for giving me my favorite memory.

i'm sure it's beautiful.
and meaningful, too.
i wonder if it's sunset or midnight,
or maybe the day has just begun.

perhaps the sky is cloudless,
or maybe there's a storm rolling in.
maybe it's november, and the leaves are falling down.
or maybe august, when the air is heavy and the heat is solid.

maybe you're someone from my past,
or maybe you're someone from my future.
hell, you could even be someone from my present.
but i kind of refuse to really, truly believe that.

just like i kind of refuse to really, truly believe
that i'll run across the type of love i see in the eyes of my friends.
just like the type of love i used to see in the eyes of another,
just like the type of love i would like to see again.

i guess what i'm trying to say is i don't have a favorite memory.
my favorite memories have been stained and tainted.
i'm terrified to make more. so what i guess i'm saying is,
stay away from me, whoever you are. i don't want your memory.

nothing golden can shine forever.

brian, sweetheart.

i'm sorry nothing ever seems to help.
i'm sorry i'm not a better friend.
i know i've promised to try harder,
but you need to stop trusting me.

you've stopped calling.
you've stopped texting.
and **** if i don't miss you.
i'll hold my tongue, however.

i won't let myself reply to your, "heya."
and i won't let myself answer your phone calls.
because i know there is nothing i can do for you.
because i know talking to me will make it worse.

so take your pills, and talk to sherry.
fix things with amy, and go back to school.
start sleeping again, hang out with nathan more.
get yourself a ******* job, okay?

you know i love you dearly.
and i do this for your own good.
don't stop calling, texting.
i won't ever answer, but.

i like to know you're still alive.
i like to know you're pushing through.
i like to know you're holding on, at least.
can you do that, for me? please?

well, i'll be honest.
i don't remember the last person i made a pinky promise to.
and that makes me feel so, so lonely.

lonely like the smallest puppy must feel when he can't play with his brothers and sisters.
lonely like the first star in the sky at night.
lonely like my hand without yours in it.

i want someone to pinky promise.
i want someone to live for.
i want someone to wake up thinking of me.

god, it's so hard to be honest with myself.
i've nothing else to say.

robbie-

i think that's your name, anyway.
i should feel bad about that, maybe.
but i don't, because you don't know mine.
you and your chocolate eyes made me smile.
those long eyelashes of yours made me blush.
that leering mouth of yours made me think.
it made me think i'd have a chance, without him.
it made me think i could have someone that wasn't him.
and i thank you for that.

our walk around the mall and to the pet store?
nothing short of miraculous.
you made me smile and laugh and say things like,
"well, i guess it's a date then, isn't it?"
you made me realize there was more to this world
than him and me and our collective issues.

and when i told you i'd meet you,
i really planned on it. i really did.
because we clicked, and i felt it.
and god, i know you did too.
but things came up, and i...
well, i was misbehaving.

i regret not meeting you.
i've never seen you again.
sometimes i wonder if you're real.
but then i remember fingertips,
exploring the small of my back,
as we hugged goodbye.

i've never hugged a stranger before.
i told you i was single, and i felt i was.
i'm sorry my heart didn't hold on to that.
i'm sorry i never found out what was hiding,
what was hiding behind your chocolate eyes.

i have nothing to offer you but the words on my lips.
i'm not funny or witty.
i don't paint or take pictures.
i can't sing you a song from center stage.

there is tragedy written across my thighs,
and much of the same can be reflected in my eyes.
there is pessimism and irrationality in much of what i say,
and most of the good things get pushed away.

i'm nothing special, but i'm far from average.
i'm difficult and take things to the extreme.
but i would love you until the ends of the earth.
my bite is so much worse than my bark,
and lately both have come into play.
i complicate everything i do;
i feel like nothing is ever as easy as it seems.

i constantly trade one addiction for another.
my vices are what keep me grounded.
you are my favorite vice, my favorite addiction.
for you there will never be a replacement.

every word you say makes something in my heart sing.
you are the only one i'd ever break my rules for.
you are the only one who would ever understand what i say,
especially when i don't say anything.

but nothing this extraordinary lasts forever.
and something this strangling has to end.
so i did what i did and when i knew what i did,
you knew. that's all that matter.

i tell myself, one day.
one day you'll see.
by then, it'll be too late for me.
but i sleep just fine,
and meet my own eyes in the mirror.

if you knew me at all, you'd see.
see that the last thing i was thinking of was me.

but i think for now, we'll call this chronically unfinished.
maybe when i'm dead, i'll know how this ends.