“The first time I met you. You pissed off at the world, forking hay from the back of a goose neck. We then shared an awkward silence the drive back to Mark’s. Lunch time hit and there it felt like we met again and then there I found myself at Lorain's table. You two to the left from right across from me from the middle of her table. Your dad insisting on how good her Koolaid was. Blake and mark making bullshit small talk to one another. Which left me and you again In silence. I looked at you and you looked away. I swear to god at that moment I loved you. Meeting again at Johnny's was nothing but fate. You tongue deep into Casey was just a slap across the face for me. There I sat playing along like all was good but thinking all was lost. And then you happened. Your always finding an way to sit on my lap, or demanding a hug ( later attack hugs) or just touching me. I felt. The first god damn time in my life I felt. I felt the touch of your hands against mine, the pound of my heart when our face would touch and our lips would draw near like magnets but yet would hover apart. I felt you. Just kids we were when you first kissed me. But then I knew there was nothing more that I ever wanted than to just have you. For my selfish self to never let go of. All of our fights. Are wrong. Because I cannot ever hate you or be truly mad at you. I love you. I’ve been an asshole. But its felt like you truly do not care about me. Like I was nothing. Like I could be disregarded at a moment’s notice because I wasn't convenient for you. I love you, and when I get upset or angry at something it’s only because I know that's not how we should be treating one another. I love you. On your good fun days or even on your don't talk to me days. I just love you. And I am sorry for the s*** between us. But. I. Will. Never. Stop. Being. In. Love. With. You.”

That’s what he said to me. All the things I didn’t think he know how to say improperly punctuated and laid out before me in all of its naked glory. Then he left me. There were so many heartaches and broken promises hidden between the lines of his words. So many sleepless nights and empty beer cans filled with cigarette butts that meant that I should have replied.

It was so high school of him to say the most honest thing he’s ever said to me in a message over facebook. It was so like him, meaningful yet childish, just like all his feeling for me. All those feelings he had for me that I knew so well, but refused to believe because I wanted something so different for him. I should have replied.   
I’d never once meant to hurt him. I love him. We fought constantly, but it was never important. He thought I was a w**** and I told him that he didn’t own me. Looking back on it I guess we were both right. We were an example of two people loving one another. We yelled and cried and spewed words that we didn’t mean until we destroyed ourselves, and then we hated each other so much that we were in love again. We were never going to leave each other, everyone knew that but us. I should have replied.

We pretended to be friends. We pretended that we’d never held hands while he was driving, or shared Chap Stick under the moon light. In the eyes of our friends we had never shared a laugh, or a beer, or a cigarette out in the vacant hills of our little oblivious town. I used to sit in his lap when he parked. Sometimes because I wanted to and sometimes because he wanted to feel like he owned me. I would move whenever someone would pull up beside us. We played the part. Good friends, nothing more. I should have replied.

I could see it in his eyes the day the he left me. He’d done it before, but never for good. He smiled at me so sadly when he gave me a hug. I knew then that it wouldn’t be long. I got his message so soon after that, but it was too late . . . years too late. Now I wave to him when he drives by, and clink my bottle against his when we’re at a party, and our song comes on. It’s been awhile now, but even after all this time. I should have replied.