An Inspired Story

I Lost a Friend

I remember that day I lost you as a friend. It was all my fault.

Just try to listen to me now.

I lost you like how you so easily lose your keys in the sofa crack when you throw them there at the end of a long day. I lost you like that time you shoved you bag in the backseat of your old loved green Volvo and your wallet fell out and you couldn't find it for what? A week? I lost you as quickly as the ice melts in the heat of summer.

I wish I could turn back time, and, just, not lose you.

I lost you like how a flippant billionaire spends money. Like throwing it away. Losing you was akin to that night we pulled an all-nighter on my trampoline too to, just, look at the stars. Like that week in Vegas on that bad bet. Oh, what idiots we were. But you were my idiot. The idiot that is spent lost hours of sleep on, worrying about every bad thing that hasn't happened yet.

I regret it. Even though I know I'll be alright, but, for just tonight, let me not be. I'll be lying awake counting all the mistakes I made. Replaying over and over again our fights, and arguments, and out senseless bickering. But also the good parts; the banter and laughter and all those shits and giggles. I regret that I lost you. I lost a friend.

I lost my mind. That's the only reasonable explanation for what I did. But no one believes me. They tell me "Stop being sad. You're twenty and rich. You have no reason to be sad." And I'll be alright with you. Eventually. But not now. So I'll write about our tale of woe and weakness and wild adventures. How did I lose you, when I never had you?

Now, just months later, I'm healing. I just have to pretend that its a physical injury, like wearing a neck brace or stitches, sleeping enough to mend. I'm on the mend, I think. It's like icing a fresh sprain or walking with a new cane. I'm just pretending that it's been a couple of days since I slipped and said your name. In truth, it was last night. I was turning around to ask you a question but, then, you weren't there.

I'm on the mend, but I lost a friend. I lost you. It takes just too long to stop the pain.

I'd apologize if I thought it might make a difference or make you listen or just talk to me. I'd apologise if it was in black and white, so you couldn't see my red eyes. But life is different.

Just try to listen to me now