"Do you remember how we met?”

I smiled and I tried to wait but I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to talk to you so badly.

“You actually hated me at first. Well, disliked is a better word. You were his friend first and he told you I was a slut and a ‘horrible’ person. Blah, blah, blah. You believed it. Until you met me in biology. You sat in front of me because the teacher assigned our desks in alphabetical order. Neither of us were great science students and we bonded over that. We were both art kids and we had friends in common. But you were so poisoned against me in the beginning. It’s funny how things started out that way but then you became my best friend.” I paused and looked up. The clouds were darkening as a storm began to roll in. The temperature was dropping making the winter air bitter cold.

“I’ll be honest even I don’t remember the exact moment we became best friends but I do know that we became inseparable. You spent more time at my house and with my family than you did with your own. You never felt like you could be you there, but my Mom and Granny loved you to bits. I didn’t have a car and I was poor, but you never made me feel ashamed even though your family was the opposite of mine. Instead we used to ride around in your Altima in the cold ass winter windows down, heat on, and blasting Lady Gaga. I didn’t care for her music until you came into my life. You made me appreciate her and Vanessa Carlton in a whole new light. When I feel kinda down I listen to them and I don’t feel as bad.” I took a deep breath and looked down at the bare ground.

“The best part was when we’d buy those Oreo Cakesters and get wasted on cakesters while watching Tim Burton movies. He was your favorite. Mine too. You loved the Corpse Bride more than me I think. We’d get take out from the only Chinese restaurant in town. Our stomachs would hurt so bad from all the junk food but we always went back for more. I had more fun with you than anyone else. But it wasn’t always about the fun. You dropped out your senior year. It wasn’t a carefully thought out decision. It was impulsive, something you would come to regret but at the time you just couldn’t deal. I had been where you were standing. Hell, I had went to Peninsula a few years before you did. But even though I had walked that path myself I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t change what was happening to you. I could only be there. So when you dropped out of high school and you moved into your first apartment you bet your ass I was there helping you unload and set up your new home and over the next couple years and moving two more times I was there for all of those as well. I didn’t mind.

You always supported me. You had this take no shit attitude that I always admired. I’m too soft spoken for my own good sometimes but you’re so ballsy. When I got dumped right before prom, absolutely got my heart stomped on, you did my makeup and made me look killer. I felt so beautiful and confident. Even though you didn’t go you ate up every single saucy detail about my last minute date and what we did in the home dugout on the baseball field. That was such a brief high moment in life because the next thing I knew I was calling you and asking to come over. Granny was gone. She had been sick ever since I was thirteen but she always amazed the doctors. So many times they would say this was the end and we needed to say goodbye but she never stopped fighting. That spring had been no different. Granny had went from being in the ICU with no clue who I was to in a nursing home undergoing intense physical therapy to be able to come home. She was about a week away from coming back home when she just didn’t wake up. My Mom had waited for me to come home from school to tell me. I called you first. Before my Dad, before anyone. You came as soon as you got off work. I don’t remember much about that first night but I remember you there. You and my Mom. That was a Tuesday. Granny was buried on a Thursday. The night before her funeral you suggested we take photographs of her and make a memory board. So we went to Walmart and you bought all the scrapbooking supplies and a large folding poster board. You even bought Tangled because you knew it would cheer me up. So we went back to my house and stayed up almost all night carefully crafting that board. We wrote the third chapter of Ecclesiastes on it. The next day at the funeral you never let go of my hand. You did your best to fake your way through my family’s religious service that you were unaccustomed to. You squeezed my hand and reminded me to breathe as I watched my Granny be lowered into the ground. When it was all over your love and friendship comforted me more than you will ever realize. You kept me away from the darkness. Best of all, you loved her too and you missed her too.” I was trying to say that and not cry. Impossible. I wiped away the tears that had escaped down my cheeks and tried to smile. I laughed instead.

“The year of our lives that followed was just another crazy, fun ride. You did your best to work and tried to figure out what to do without school. I planned for college. We both know life doesn’t go as planned though. A few weeks before I was supposed to move into my dorm you came over to hang out and you noticed a box of newborn baby diapers sitting in my room. Your eyes grew wide and dashed to my stomach. You asked me the question I had purposefully wanted to spring into your mind because I was so sacred to say the words. I told you I was pregnant. You hugged me and didn’t miss a beat. When you told me you would get an apartment with me and help me raise the baby my heart swelled. I knew if I had needed you and asked you you would have done anything. Instead nine months later you became an uncle. You came to see me two days after I had my daughter. Delivery had been scary and complications had required an emergency c-section. I had been moved to a small triage room with a broken shower and a confused air conditioner that only knew how to blow hot air. I was in pain, overwhelmed and grumpier than a bear. I had such a temper tantrum. You sat in that chair and it didn’t even bother you. Life got hectic after that. I tried to balance being a mother, working full time, going to college part time, my relationship with my boyfriend, and living with his family. Your life was crazy too. Trying to find a job you liked and could live off of and meeting your online boyfriend in real life finally. You were so excited. You two had been talking for years, since before you dropped out. He lived in Georgia and finally you flew down to meet him. But he wasn’t who he said. He was an older man. He had lied about every detail and taken pictures of a Brazilian pop star and claimed it was him. You felt so duped and hurt. I hurt for you. But you invested so much into him emotionally you gave the guy a chance and lived with him in Atlanta for about half a year before you finally came home. I was sad it hadn’t work but happy you were home. I thought we could just fall back into being the same friends we were before. That didn’t happen. I was a mom and pregnant again. You bounced around from jobs and boyfriends. You lived in the fast lane and I was scared for you. You met guys who could hurt you. You lived impulsively but I didn’t know how to help you so I said nothing. Instead I let our friendship continue to fade. I felt pressured by my new family to only have ‘stable’ friends around my children. I thought it was best for everyone. I just wanna say...I didn’t mean to shut you out. I still thought of you. I said hi when we saw each other in town. I know you were pissed, but please try to understand I didn’t know how to explain to my daughters the kind of dangerous game you were playing. It was Russian roulette with your life. For a couple years both of us went quiet. We didn’t try to contact each other. But last winter right around Christmas I saw you at the grocery store. I almost turned the other way but instead my heart pulled me to you. You were surprised to see me too. You were even more surprised to see I was pregnant again and due in just weeks. We must have talked for over a half hour. You told me you had moved home and were trying to fix your life. No more one night stands. No more clubs. No more drinking. You were exploring school options, even the military. You had a good boyfriend you were thinking of moving in with. You seemed good. You asked about my daughters and I showed you pictures and you said you didn’t feel like you were good with kids but guessed you’d get over that real quick by coming to visit. You asked about my Mom. You made me feel like nothing had changed. Just the time. But you said things that when I think back, well now they seem odd. You told me the happiest you had ever been was with me and my family. I barely noticed. I was happy to have seen you. So we exchanged numbers and parted ways. I texted you but I didn’t hear back for weeks. After I gave birth to my third daughter you texted me back saying she was beautiful and asking her name. We didn’t make plans to visit but I got so lost in the postpartum haze that I honestly forgot. I was tired and having a hard time recovering from my third c-section when you texted me. I knew you were upset. Your relationship had ended. ‘He was the only reason I was keeping things together…’ That was what you texted me. I glanced it over, confused. I didn’t understand how you went from moving in together to being done in one leap. So I thought nothing of it when you said no more. A few days passed and I saw the gossip about you on social media. I remember how I felt when Granny died. This wasn’t any different. I checked with the funeral home and sure enough your arrangements had been made. I sat stiffly in the funeral parlor. I only saw one of your other friends from school. The same guy who had made you hate me in the beginning. I hadn’t seen him in several years. We didn’t speak, but instead nodded to one another. Neither of us cared about that ancient history anymore. The day was about you. I avoided your parents and brother. I couldn’t face them. I had no clue what to say. When the ushers gathered us in the chapel I sat with a former coworker of ours. She had no clue we were friends outside of work, but as soon as she did she grilled me about you. She had the audacity to ask me if I thought this was an accident or you did this on purpose. I couldn’t hide my disgust with her. I didn’t speak the rest of the service. I cried silently the entire time. She didn’t shed a tear. The minister read the same passage that was read at Granny’s funeral. I avoided looking at the coffin even though you had a closed casket service. Instead I looked at your senior yearbook photo in a frame beside it. Some of your framed sketches were displayed around it. I looked at those. I remembered walking into art class and seeing you standing at the sink washing your brushes wearing that orange jacket. That was the you I wanted to think about, not the one in the coffin before me. When the service ended I made my way out the back doors of the parlor and into the rain. I’ve not stopped thinking about you. I’ve not stopped regretting. Some days I don’t go there. Other days the guilt racks me so hard I can’t push it away. I know I didn’t do this to you. I know this was your choice. I know nothing I could have said would have made a difference. I just want you to know that I’m not angry at you for your choice. I love you just as much as I did when you were alive. I won’t stop remembering you. I have struggled this past year to let go, but I think I can now. I hope you’ve let go too. I hope you’re at peace. I hope what you chose has brought you a calm clarity that you never knew while you were breathing.”

The first stray rain drops landed on my face and mixed with my tears. I wrapped the note tightly around the stem of a single rose and laid it on the ground. I smiled at you through the rain and the hurt then I walked back to my car and I drove away. I went back to my home, my family and I did the laundry and I cried, but the peace I felt was nothing short of relief. You will remain one of the best friends I have ever had. You will stay with me a lifetime. But this was your choice and I have learned to live with what you chose. All I really can say is thank you for blessing me with your friendship.