Babe, you look so cool

Have you ever had to make a decision you know wasn't going to be easy, the time was never going to be right, but you needed to do it anyways? I'm in love with my best friend. It has taken me awhile to come to terms with this, but I have always known, I just refuse to accept it. It's not that he's a bad guy,  he's wonderful, he's so imperfect he's perfect. I love everything about him. It's the fact that I can't imagine losing him. I love talking to him everyday, I love getting drunk and feeling his arm around me, leaning into his smokey, cologney embrace. I'm scared to love again. I'm scared that he won't feel the same way, that he won't be ready, or more importantly that I won't be ready. I never planned for it to happen, it just sort of happened. I love that he trusts me enough to let me see those deep, dark corners of himself, I love imperfect things. It's the little things, the way he slightly purses his lips when he's trying not to smile in pictures or when he's thinking, his piercing blue eyes, his relentless teasing, or how we can hold a conversation about anything or just sit in silence and be content. He's one of the most intelligent people I know, not only book smart, but also about life. It's not as easy as telling him how I feel, do to circumstances out of my control, and the fact that I would never want to put him in a situation where he would be negatively impacted, or that that would be the only reason that he wouldn't want to pursue something between us. I have the urge to drive to his house right now and tell him how I feel, but I'm terrified of the response. But this weekend is the weekend, that I lay it all out on the table. Drunk or sober, because he needs to know and I can't contain myself anymore, I have to know.

That Night

I think it's about time I explain That Night and the events leading up to it.

I loved you. Correction, I still love you. Our relationship started out great. Everyone was happy that we were together and we were happy to be together. Personally, I had always thought you were cute and one day I found my mind wandering as I watched you stock the shelves and I thought, "Man, the girl who gets to cuddle with that is one lucky girl." and I had a boyfriend lol.

Things were great until more people became aware of how old you were and how old I was. To us it never really mattered. We made a joke about it. You were the old man and I was the little girl. It was funny to us because at the end of the day we were on the same cognitive level, regardless of when our birthdays fell. But other people didn't take it too lightly. My friends thought it was weird that you graduated with their teacher and your friends thought it was weird that I wasn't even legal yet. Yes, it did look weird til you saw us in action together. You can't even tell the age difference until someone asks. I look older, you look younger. I know it took a great toll on you. You said you never cared what anyone said but I think you did. Like that night you went out with David and Ashley and everyone and David was giving you crap because you were out drinking with my parents and not me. I know you said it didn't bother you but I think it did. I couldn't go out to bars or clubs or stay out late and party with you and your friends. I was 17 and living with the world's strictest parents.

Slowly, you started to pull away. You did what you do best and you immersed yourself in work. You made up excuses to not hang out. You stopped coming over. Your texts became fewer and fewer. And I was hurt. I didn't know what I did wrong. Things around me were tough as it was. My two best friends left me because I didn't want to hang out with them at a movie premiere I went with you to. They viewed  it as me choosing you over them and ditched me. I was under the stress of applying for college, graduating early, yearbook deadlines, and being friendless. The only person I had was you. You were my rock. You made me laugh and made everything better. You always knew what to say and were always there. I could tell you anything and everything. When I realized I was losing you I felt so alone. I remember the exact moment.

It was Christmas. You hadn't seen me in awhile and you promised to come over on Christmas so we could exchange gifts. I was so excited. I had spent forever picking out the perfect gift for you. A brand new leather Fox wallet and a movie gift card so we could go to the movies. I know how much you love your movies. I wrapped it carefully and set it under the tree. I waited. and waited. and waited. Everyone kept asking me where you were, when you were coming and I said soon. I hadn't heard from you but I knew it would be soon. and that's when you text me. You text me and told me you wouldn't be coming over because you were going to the movies with some friends but you promised we would get together on your next day off. I was hurt. No, crushed. I felt unimportant. I felt worthless. I felt like you didn't want me anymore. On Christmas of all days. Of all holidays.

We ended up getting together a few days later. I went to your house and we exchanged gifts. A leather wallet for you ( I kept the gift card) and a brand new art book for me. (That book is still my pride and joy) I remember how it felt. Kind of awkward. At least for me. I felt like you were only doing it because you had to. Maybe because you were playing video games half the time I was there. Not cherishing the precious time we had together. Then we watched a movie. And that's what set me over the edge. You didn't cuddle me like normal. You just sat next to me, stiff as a board, occasionally playing with your phone. Like you didn't even care.

It took all I had not to cry. I knew it was over. I knew what we had just wasn't there anymore and I didn't know why. I figured it was something I had done and you were just in it as a pity move. Because you didn't want to break my heart. Too late. As soon as the movie was over I immediately went home. I didn't want to break down in front of you, but the car was the perfect place.

I remember getting home and feeling like I was in a daze. My mom asked me how it went and I lied and said it was fine. You loved your gift. I got a book. I loved it. I took some pills because I had a pain. A headache. But I don't think it was a real headache. It was a heartache. I went to bed and text you goodnight and told you what I did. In a way I think it was my way of getting back at you. I think I wanted you to feel the pain that I felt. and that was the only way I knew how. I continued the next day. I refused to answer my phone and sat infront of the TV just staring off into space trying to think about anything and everything except for you and what I was feeling.

That's when my mom told me that you asked if I was ok. That you hadn't heard from me all day and you were concerned. That's when I kind of snapped back to myself for a second and decided I might as well tell you I was alive. I remember looking at my phone. Three missed calls and countless text messages. Ouch. I remember thinking, "I hope he's feeling it. I hope he feels what I feel." and that's when I told you I was fine. Exactly like that. I remember typing out that text like a robot. Disregarding all your concerned texts before. I am fine. I remember your text back. Burned into my memory: How could you :( . I was numb. I didn't care. Mission accomplished. I was happy I had hurt you. Maybe you were starting to feel my pain a little bit. I wasn't myself.

That night my parents told my sisters to tell me to get ready to go look at a car they found for me. So I threw on a jacket and got in the car with them. I remember I had a headphone in. That's when they took me to the Clifton Elementary parking lot and told me you told them everything. I remember the hurt in my mom's voice as she told me how concerned you were and how scared you were. And that's when I lost it. I started crying. I never wanted to hurt you. I never really wanted you to feel what I felt because it was such a terrible terrible feeling. I would rather take it all than have you feel that way. I remember just sitting there crying and shaking while "Amazing Because It Is" blared in my ear. To this day whenever I hear that song I flashback to that moment.

That's when I knew I had to fix it. I had to fix things between us. That's when I texted you and asked you if we could talk. My mother didn't believe that I could safely operate a car, so you drove. I remember shaking in that passenger seat. Sitting in silence because I didn't know what to tell you. Finally I just told you I was sorry. I was getting help and that I was sorry. I remember crying and I remember you reached out and grabbed my hand because you could tell I was upset. You told me it was ok but I knew it wasn't. I wanted so badly to believe you but I knew it wasn't. I thought I had fixed it. At least for the time being. But again, I wasn't myself. When we got to my house that's when you told me. You told me you didn't want to be with me. And that's when I completely lost it. Went over the edge. I remember crying, no, bawling into your chest. You were trying to tell me that it was ok or something like that but I wasn't paying attention. All I could hear was the voice in my head saying,"You did it. You fucked it up. Don't you see? He doesn't want to be with you because you aren't perfect. It was you all along. He just wasn't going to tell you." and that's when I got mad. Mad because I thought you played me this long. That you crushed my heart into a million tiny little unfixable pieces and I just watched as you did it.

That's when I slammed the door in your face. I didn't want to talk to you. You hurt me so much to the point where I was angry. That's when I saw everyone wide eyed looking at me asking me what happened. And that's when I realized I was all alone. I had lost my best friend. My rock. The only person who understood me at that moment in time. That's when I shut down. I ran to my room and buried my head in a pillow and cried like I've never cried before. I hurt. I hurt like there was a gaping part of my heart missing and I knew I would live but it would hurt an awful painful unbearable kind of hurt forever. I cried because I didn't know how else to express my pain. I was so far gone I resorted to infant instincts.
Everyone was in that room. Everyone was begging me to tell them what happened and I couldn't bear to tell them how I had failed. How I had messed up. How I wasn't perfect enough. How I was truly alone now that I had lost the person I was closest to. How no one would understand. So I cried. I cried and cried and cried and cried to the point where I felt like I was going to throw up. I refused to talk to anyone. I tried to rip the pain out of my chest and cried some more when I realized I couldn't do it. My mom begged. Andrea begged. Kendra begged. My mom cried and begged. Begged I just talk to someone about it. I couldn't. And then I remembered Tyler. My brother. He would protect me from this pain. That's what brothers do. They protect you when no one else will. I told her I wanted Tyler. My mom was frantic. She was like, "someone get Tyler on the phone. Tell him to come over now."

To this day I don't know how Tyler got there so fast but he was there. And he didn't judge me. He just sat there and let me cry on his shoulder. He told me to tell him what happened. I told him because he would protect me. He is my brother. It's his job. He told me it was ok. That I needed to calm down because you wouldn't approve of me hurting this bad. He told me that it wasn't my fault. I tried. I put all the effort into it but I couldn't force you to make an effort if you didn't want to. He told me to calm down before I did something stupid. Obviously he didn't know the story yet. Good ol' Tyler. I was so tired from crying I crashed out. I don't remember Tyler leaving.

The next couple days were rough. I felt the pain. The gaping hole I was living with. I didn't want to live with it. I didn't want to live. So I didn't. I slept until my mom came in and literally pulled the mattress out of my room. She would yell at me to get up and I would make my way to the TV and sit there like a zombie. Staring into space thinking about my gaping hole. Crying. One day she lost it. She told me to get in the shower and I refused. I just sat there staring and crying. I could have been deaf. She literally dragged me to the bathroom and she told me to get in the shower. I sat on the floor of the bathroom just staring into space crying. She didn't know what to do. So she called the police. She told them what had happened and they transferred her to a suicide hotline and told her to put me on the phone. I refused. Then she said it. She said, "I'm not going to have him ruin your life Brittany. I won't." I lost it. I started beating my head up against the wall screaming at her that it wasn't your fault. To leave you out of it. You didn't do anything. She didn't understand. It was me. It was all my fault. I wasn't going to have her blaming you. I remember she was so happy she cried. It was the first words I had spoken in days.

Eventually, I got help. I went to Scott and he helped me piece back together my life. He helped me control my depression, which was a major trigger to that disastrous night because it controlled my thinking. My gaping hole isn't as big as it used to be. It's starting to scar over. It will never be completely healed though. Partly because you keep ripping it back open, but mainly because I don't want it to. I want you to forever have a piece of my heart. Masochist. That's what people would say I am. That's what I say I am. I don't blame you for what happened. I did what I did to myself. It's just the way I think. But I do blame you for the way things started to fall apart. You could never address an issue. Just bury it underneath other things, hoping I would get the hint. It's not that easy. I do cherish the time we spent together and thank you for what you did for me. I am forever indebted to you and continue to get better day by day. Hopefully we will too.

What are we like five?

  You texted me the other day. It was after I blew up on you a few weeks before about not putting enough effort into our relationship. You pretty much gave me the finger in words and I told you I was done. If you wanted to fix it you could. Surprisingly, I was serious. But then I went to the Ke$ha party. And in my drunken state I found out that you told Pookie a different story than you told me. You told him you wanted me to visit you so we could fix things between us. I was mad. I was mad that you fed me bullshit about not wanting to fix our relationship and then you went and told him the truth. And hadn't muttered a word to me since that day.
  What are we like five? Was it really necessary in order for us to communicate we had to play the game of "Well you can tell him that I said"through MY best friend? No. But if that's how you wanted to play then whatever. I was done. So that's when I told him to tell you that I said I wasn't going to visit you unless I heard it directly from you. Pathetic right? And that's when you texted me a few days later.
  I was pissed when I read your first message. "First Pitbull song I like wow." Really. Really. After our last conversation that's the first thing you say to me? Fuck you. That's exactly what I was thinking. And then when you wouldn't get the hint that I wanted to have a serious conversation I got even more pissed off. Why do I always have to be the adult? I'm six years younger than you for God's sake. You should be telling me to grow up.
  When you told me the reason you gave up was because you couldn't handle my depression I was a little  hurt. Yes, I did scare the shit out of you on That Night, but I scared the shit out of everyone. It was a dark time in my life. I thought I could trust you. I told you because I knew you would help me. I knew you would do what I wouldn't be able to do. That's why I always confide(d) in you. Because when I don't know what to do you do. I see where you are coming from, but that's what friends are for. And at that time you were my boyfriend. You were supposed to be the closest to me. and you were. that's why I confided in you and not anyone else. But at the end of that day you left me alone. And I learned that the only person I can count on is myself.
  When it comes down to it, I love you. I can talk the talk but I can't walk the walk. You've always had a special place in my heart and I don't know why. I'll probably always feel that way and I will eventually have to settle with someone else because you don't feel the same. But I was serious. I love our friendship and I just wanted my best friend back. I love my best friend. I love the relationship we had. I hate what we've become now. We are both different. But we made the move out here together. Do I need to remind you that the whole reason you got your ass out of Junction was because I was going to school in Fort Collins and refused to leave without you? You told me we would find a way to make it work. If it was meant to be it would. Obviously you still care or you wouldn't have told Pookie what you did. I'm waiting. I'll always be waiting for you to grow up.

It's Like A Sick Game For You

to sit there and toy with me and my emotions. Back and forth, round and round we go. Friends. More than friends. Together. Friends. More than Friends. Together. Friends. Friends. Friends...wait what the fuck are we? 

I hate it. I hate that I know I can't do this, and yet, I still put myself through it. Why? Because I freaking adore you. And I hate it. I hate that I get lost in your blue eyes. Hate that every time you smile your goofy crooked smile I can't help but smile. Hate that I obsessively check my phone for text messages from you when I know they won't be coming in. I hate everything that I love about you. It's like a drug. You are my crack. I got a hit and now I can't stop.

You know it. That's why you play your sick little game with me. You want the best of both worlds. You want the bachelor life but you want someone to come home to at the end of the day, you want that deep intimate relationship with someone without losing your freedom. You've seen your friends being sucked up into the married, relationship life and you don't want that, you only want certain parts. That's where I come in. I give you those parts you long for without jeopardizing your freedom because I know how much it means to you. So you turn it into a game. You play as far as you are comfortable with, and then when it gets to the point where you think you are headed down the same path as your friends, you quit cold turkey. Then who gets screwed? Me. Oh, don't mind the girl with the broken heart who doesn't know what the fuck happened because this time was supposed to be different. It's all good. Then when I confront you about it, you feed me some bullshit about how you never want/wanted to hurt me and that you didn't think you were leading me on and how it will never happen again blah blah blah de fucking blah. But I know in a month or two we will be right back to where we were, somewhere in between friends, more than friends, and being together. Confused yet? Me too.

Some would say I am to blame. I should know better and shouldn't allow him to put me through this. Ask any drug addict in the world how easy it is to relapse when you are fresh out of rehab and tempted. Like taking candy from a baby. Sure, I've tried. I've entered rehab plenty of times, leaving with the thought "this time it's going to be different," only to relapse a few days or weeks later. I just can't stop. I enjoy the high too much. I love that feeling I get when he looks at me and smiles. I'm just a damn sucker for that man. Did I mention how much I hate it? 

I know. I know what the end result is and I still do it anyways. Why? Sometimes you can't describe the things you do, you just have to feel it. Then you understand. You understand why I put myself through the things I do. I follow my heart too much. And it usually ends up on the floor in a million unfixable pieces.

They say he isn't worth it. They say he's too old, too selfish, too busy, too everything in the book. They say love is blind, hell ya it is cuz I don't see any of that. I see someone who is perfect in every way I could imagine, even though he has imperfections. I love them because they make him him. The real reason I love him to death? He believes in me. When everyone else tell me no you can't, he tells me yes you can, bigger and better than they ever imagined.

Only time will tell if I win or lose this battle with my addiction. But for now it's just a game we play. Kind of like ring around the rosie. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.