House of Memories // discontinued

Twelfth Grade

Senior year. 

Shit man, wasn't that the year to remember. 

It wasn't our first house party- I actually can't remember a thing about our fist house party together- maybe you do, but you're twice as hard of a drinker than me, so probably not. 

Anyway, it was around ten,  and you were boozed up. We were outside, and so was the majority of people there. It was in June, a few weeks before we graduated, and almost, if not all, the senior student body showed up. 

The band had done a karaoke together- which probably was our best performance together- and Spence and Brent had to leave for some damn reason. 

We were talking, with music blasting though the speakers and hundreds of people all stood by us, swaying subconsciously and bumping into one another, and you had said; 

"is there a true line, between crazy, and genius?"

Now me, being the intellectual I thought I was, responded with, "Yes, of course. Bren, I think you're a little too drunk." 

"No no no listen," You had stuttered out, "What is the truth? If you ask some people that question, they'll either look at ya' funny, or contemplate existence with you. 'What is the truth?' does that sound crazy to you? Because what is the truth Ryan? Is there any way that you can answer that question, with one hundred precent fact? Can you even define what i'm talking about? Does it matter? Because now that you're thinking about it, you know it's starting to make sense- you know, the not making sense of it all." 

I had no fucking clue what you were talking about, and had only really realized about twenty five minutes ago. 

Does crazy and genius run parallel  to each other, or exist within each other all together? Or does Crazy really equal genius? And does it go the same way vise versa? 

I just blinked at you, trying to comprehend  what you had just said, but before I got through the first sentence, you had said, "I don't know what it means either, but you know what is the truth? I love you. In this moment, right now, I love you. And there is nothing in this world, that would want me to be any further away from you than I am right now, and if I could kiss you right now, if I could take you into one of the bedrooms up there, and kiss you like I never had before, I would do it in a heartbeat. That- that's the truth." 

"Brendon, you're drunk" I was bright red and I knew it.  I remember feeling every pint of blood rush up to my face, and my heart did that flicker thing, and my stomach felt like it had been twisted up into a jungle gym. 

That's when you moved up to me, and looked me directly in the eyes and said, "The thing is, i've only had sprite all night." 

And as if that wasn't shock enough for me, you had took my hand and pushed me into the pool you had conveniently had us stand next to. Then you jumped in, and other people did the same. 

The next half hour consisted of head dunking and splashing wars and underwater kisses. 

Why did I mention this conversation, of all things I could have said, I thought you should remember this. Because yes I enjoyed the football unit in PE and the film we shot and the movie nights we had at each others houses, but that conversation we had, or what you had said, even you hadn't said anything about me, that was one of the reasons I fell for you Brendon. You're smart, you're deep. Stay like that, it's refreshing. 

I would have written more, I could have written milestones in our years together, or given you twenty different memories of us. I would like to say it's because I thought you remember, but it's honestly because I didn't think you would even  make it this far. 

Maybe you didn't. I wouldn't know. 

There's one more letter Brendon, but I labeled it taboo, you'll find out why.