"I Should Have"

This was a journal for my poetry class, so it's very close to my heart... Please keep that in mind as you read.

Journal #2 "I Should Have"

I should have not let Andy go. I should have fought harder to prevent the loss of our friendship. He was my best friend, the only guy who REALLY knew me. I should have realized when he stopped wanting to hang out that something was wrong. I should have looked to see what his eyes were saying. Were they full of pain? Were they weary? Were they wary? What would I have seen if I'd just stopped for a moment, and not been so selfish and all about me?

In those last few months before we dissolved our friendship, Andy would always say he loved me, and I'd respond in kind, thinking that he meant close friendship, nothing more. Did I read him wrong? Did he read me wrong?

It's hard to blame either one of us singularly, but I can't help it. Does he still feel the pain of not having someone to talk to like we talked? Was I replaced instantly or not? There is no replacement for Andy. He was everything I was not, and then some. We laughed together, fought hard, smiled together, thought it was hysterical when we were confused for brother and sister…

Can that relationship really be over so quickly just because someone had to say goodbye?

Did I hurt Andy? I would never do it intentionally, unless we were fighting, but we had known parameters of how far that would even go. Was he in love with me? I remember still the days we spent over a month of weekends curled up together watching The 10th Kingdom. He laid on my favorite pillow, and demanded that I use him as a pillow. I remember that damned smirk on his face as we continued to pause and laugh at scenes in the movie while discussing them. I remember the comparison between him and one of the characters in the movie… I found the character attractive, but, as I laughingly told Andy, him not so much, probably because I'd known him too long.

*sigh* I should have realized that all good times come to an end. I wish I'd seen the signs beforehand. Instead, I'm left clutching each memory of the taunts, the fights, the laughs, the smiles, the hugs… And still not over him.

Someday, I'd love to go out on another random drive with him. Not really going anywhere, just a drive to wherever the road takes us. I remember the silly street names we'd call out, then the exits off the freeway. I remember laughing over getting lost, and how finding our way home again took almost the entire night. Those memories fill my head almost all the time.

Hell, Andy's taken over my mind. I can no longer read my favorite poem without thinking that it's talking about me and Andy.

To quote said poem, "If I should meet Andy after long years, How would I greet him? -With silence and tears."

Tears for the lost time, tears for the pain, tears as I try to find enough voice to ask him what really happened. And how would he respond? I have no idea. But if he approached me, would I even have enough left inside me to open my mouth and turn sound into words?

Andy has moved on. Why can't I?