I don’t understand how anybody could do that. How you of all people could do that. You were always saying ‘Carpe Diem’ and telling me to make the most of life but in the end you didn’t even follow your own rules. I was never one for following rules, something you used to scold me for, telling me I should follow the rules more.
But breaking the rules is what got me you. I was supposed to be the biggest ladies man, all jocks are, but I was the exception instead of the rule itself. We never had an ordinary relationship but it was hard to when you were you and I was me. Your parents never approved of our relationship, they were dead set Christians, but they did try for you. I was a jock and you were a drama student, it shouldn’t have worked... but it did. For a while anyway.
It was horrible you know... everybody was gutted to hear about you. ‘He was so beautiful’ they all said, I felt like screaming ‘Why didn’t you ever tell him when he was still alive?!’ but all I actually said was ‘I know.’ It was hard for a lot of people to take in, but for me. I’ll never get that image out of my head... a river of red, your broken body. I don’t even know what happened. Your mother told me I had screamed, then collapsed on the floor crying, but in a way I’m glad it was me who found you and not your sister, Isabelle had gone through enough.
You were so pale. I always used to joke around saying you looked like a vampire because you were so pale. But you always had a pinky flush to your cheeks and that pinky flush was gone. You were so pale, but you had a few streaks of red blood across your face and you had a cut lip. Perhaps from biting down on it when you were... you know... you always used to bite your lip. It was very attractive and I always told you so.
And your eyes. Your bright blue sparkling orbs. They had dimmed and they had lost their usual sparkle. Do you remember when you took me canoeing? I kept complimenting your eyes, telling you how blue they were? That’s the way I want to remember your eyes full of life and not dead, black, cold, emotionless like they were that day, when I found you. I still don’t know why you did it. Or maybe I do...
People talk, they’re bound to when it’s about one of the most popular students in the school. You always told me that you didn’t care what people said, people always used to describe you as carefree. I always thought you didn’t care but maybe I was wrong... maybe you did care, you were targeted more so than I was but it always hit you less than it did me. Perhaps it was because I had had so much and then I lost it all. But maybe it did hit you just as much. Well it must of hit your more because you are the one that’s gone.
I’d like to think if heaven did exist that that’s where you went, but being gay was a sin so I know that you would’ve been sent to hell. But I don’t believe in that.. to be honest I don’t know what I believe in. But what I do know is that you are currently buried six feet under in a big wooden box.
You had an open casket, I remember looking at you, taking in your features. Your eyes were still dark but the funeral home workers had cleaned you up and made you less pale, they’d used cosmetics to make you less pale. I didn’t like the open casket, I threw up once we’d left the church. But it’s what your parents chose. They didn’t know what you wanted. They asked me but I didn’t know. We’d never talked about the future, you never used to care much about the future. ‘Take it day by day.’ you used to say. That’s what I’ve been doing lately. I haven’t been thinking about the way I feel tomorrow. Especially seen as I’m not sure how I feel today.
I visited your grave once, sometimes twice a day for two whole months. I talked to you, but who talks to somebody who’s not really there? Who writes to someone who will never actually receive the letter? Why am I writing this? Well my therapist told me it was a good way to let my feelings out.
I was always one to bottle all my feelings up, never to talk about anything that upset me. I don’t even really talk to my therapist, she just gets me to do things like this. To vent. I don’t think it really works though because it still hurts. Maybe a little less than when I first lost you. Perhaps because I have come to terms with you being gone a bit more. But I still as constantly ask myself ‘could I have stopped it?’.
And I know I could’ve stopped it. I remember seeing the pink cuts on your wrist too straight to be accidental. I knew I should’ve asked you about them. But what good would it have done? You wouldn’t have talked to me about it, you didn’t talk to anyone about problems, just like me. Now I really wish I had said something, maybe I could’ve talked you out of it. But can people be talked out of suicide?
‘You have a way with words’ you said to me after I had been asked to read my poem in English. So perhaps I could’ve talked you out it, I’d like to think I could’ve. But deep down I’m starting to question how much I meant to you. But then I feel stupid for thinking that, because the note was addressed to me. My name (‘Josh’) written in your cursive writing.
Your words still echo in my head. ‘I just can’t do this anymore.’ What was it that you couldn’t do anymore? Us? Did I even matter? No, of course I did, you wouldn’t have stayed with me otherwise, you weren’t that type of person. I’d like to think I knew you like the back of my hand. The same hand that fit perfectly in yours...
I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, or maybe you did... I remember telling you that I loved you but you never actually said the words. I’d say ‘I love you’ and you would say ‘Me too’. I didn’t really think anything of it at the time but looking back I guess it was an odd thing to say to someone who’d just told you they love you. But I still loved you regardless. And I probably always will love you. Maybe one day I’ll find someone, but nothing compares to you....
Nothing compares to you, thats why I put up with it all, because I was in love with you. Holdenville brought back too many memories so I’m starting at my new school today, we moved to Chinatown, New York. I’m starting over, but you will always be in my heart. I will always remember you. And I will always remember to seize the day because thats what you used to say. ‘Carpe Diem’ that what you said. Now I’ve truly realised what it means and how important the saying is. You taught me so many things in life, so many things that I forget all the unanswered questions that still bounce around in my head. I truly loved you and don’t you forget that.
