Tell Me A Secret

“I wanna drowned my sorrow. No tomorrow, no tomorrow. And I find it kinda funny and I find it kinda sad, that the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had…”

• Tears for Fears

When things were good, they were great. But God forbid things should hit rock bottom. We could support each other but for how long?

It was like watching an angel fall from grace when one of us cried.

It wasn’t something we out right admitted, willingly.

There was always something that kept each other going.

The poems the paintings.

The words, and the loss.

Something we all had to learn to hate, because we didn’t enjoy the pain.

You cried over your father’s anger.

She over a love never found.

And I over a silly boy that left me heartbroken.

There was nothing to do but sit and wait when it came to begging and pleading.

We often thought of things to make each other laugh and kept them to ourselves.

Because there was nothing healthier than a good cry.

Which I did often.

“Tell me your deepest darkest secret,” I questioned. Almost childlike.

“I’ve loved you since the day you said hey.”

“You’re lying,” I laughed.

“No, I’m not kidding. I knew when I went from talking to your sister to you even in an instant message that it was you. I can’t explain it but it was something about those three letters that made me want to have you.”

“You’re a liar Ezra Micheals,” I laughed.

I was always told never to trust a guy with a first name as a last name. But you know how that goes.

“No, I’m not Charolette Greene. I love you. And I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be alright I suppose,” I was fishing for compliments.

“I think I’d kill myself if you weren’t around,” there was a smile in his voice. I was his happy fix he needed me to survive.

I guess I wasn’t enough.

“I miss you,” I pouted.

“I miss you too. Every moment that I can’t hear your voice it’s torture.”

“Why are you so good to me?”

“Because, I love you,” he spoke gently thru a distant receiver.

I was never the same after him.

Didn’t love me. He loved that I would love him no strings attached. That I would fix him when he was in a million and three pieces.

He wanted something closer, and that was the only thing I couldn’t give him.

Not at this distance.

- Memory as noted by Charolette.

I could have slapped you. The things you were doing were driving me crazy. I couldn’t handle the chaos.

Not when I had my own s**t to deal with. Never mind me.

I couldn’t keep up with you and me.

It just wasn’t going to happen.

I hated my middle name and the way you slept in Physics.

Can’t have everything I assume.

But it wasn’t fair to judge based on idiosyncrasies. I loved you dearly.

The both of you.

Sometimes it just became too hard to handle.

So I’d shut you all out because it was the easiest thing to do.

Charolette and her bullshit drama, and you and your me time. It just wasn’t fair. I tried to keep up with the two of you and I couldn’t.

If I had the option of alcohol it would be wonderful but as stated earlier we can always have what we want when we want it.

“I gotta D in Anal. Func. My mother is going to kill me.”

“I’ll say,” Charolette laughed at you.

“That’s not funny,” you looked like death was near, “what am I gonna do?”

“Show your parents your report card and face the music like every other normal failing junior,” Charolette was smug. She’d passed all of her class with either mediocre or flying colors.

“Dunno what to tell you, Jen,” I couldn’t do anything but shrug. You’d gotten yourself into that mess all on your own.

“Jalynne said she would scan and chance grades if it were a life or death situation,” Charolette bit into an apple slice.

“You think she would?” you seemed optimistic.

“Somehow I think that’s gonna bite you in the a*s,” I rolled my eyes but who listens to me?

“Oh come on Sage, if I don’t at least consider this I’ll never see the sun again,” you had that puppy dog face.

“Seriously, Sage, do you really wanna lose a close friend all over some misconstrued laziness?” Charolette patronized.

“Lemme ask you something,” I looked at her.

“Shoot.”

“Two things actually.”

“Ok…”

“First of all would you change your grade?” I raised a brow.

“No way in hell,” she bit into the apple slice nonchalantly.

“And why is that?”

“Because with my luck I’d get caught and wish I were dead,” she smiled sarcastically.

“Point made,” I looked at you.

“That’s her.”

“Oh and your luck is any better? I don’t think getting a D in math makes you an ideal candidate for good luck,” she rolled her eyes at you.

“Shut up,” you had you’re heart set on changing it, “And do you even know what misconstrued means?”

“It means I don’t have a D in math,” she smiled wildly at you.

- Memory as noted my Sage.