It's oh so disassembling to see you again, m'dear.

There is a boy in the neighborhood who looks like you from the side.
Then there was a boy, when I got off the bus for my last time being at SMFA for the term, who looked exactly like you without facial hair.

I stopped walked and watched him pass me by. We kept eye contact, but I was the startled one, he seemed so calm.

I love seeing this version of you, but I hate it so much. It hurts more than any of this has before.
It's even extremely difficult to write this all out, and just explaining it again makes my body hurt.

I was thrown into a massive whirlwind. I almost lost control of everything,
and then it started.
I recited Bradley Hathaway's poem "Silence"

Out loud.
Walking down the street.
To school.
At first, my words shook harder than my body, and as I kept speaking, I felt calm, warm and numb to everything around me. I didn't feel the rain pouring on me, I felt as though there was a shield around me. Blocking out all air, wind movement, tempature, and moisture.

Nothing from the outside world could get in,
I was recovering.

I don't remember the walk to school, I just remember finishing the poem, still frazzled a bit, but a block away from SMFA. I felt like I blacked out the entire time or just appeared there.

Recently I have been realizing what happened.
You were my friend,
one of my best friends. And that's not just because you died, you were one of my best friends before then.
When I was having fever hallucionations, you were the one who almost convinced me to come over...but I didn't want to get you sick (jokes on me, again)
But you were a dear friend of mine,
I hung out with you.
I sat, ate, smoked, drank, laughed, talked, hugged, and punched you.
No one will ever laugh like you did when I would hit you for being a bastard.

Your smile penatrates my heart and it hurts, but it feels so nice to remember.

And then I remember.
I remember what you did, I remember Vincenza coming to my house with Alex yelling for Conor. I remember being high. Damnit, I regret that. But I remember her crying and me askings what was wrong. I didn't want to know what she meant at first, my head knew, but instantly (without me being able to really grasp out quickly my denial sets in) thinking she meant he ran away.
I knew you didn't.
I knew what happened.


I now know what happened.
And that you're not here.
And you won't ever be.
And that you were before.
That I won't hug you goodbye.

I always hug goodbye, or at least say goodbye.
And the one time I thought "he's in a rush, you'll see him again, chill out for once in your life."
I never saw you again.

I'm sorry. I love you.
-cm