A Few Days Old Reflection

This is like a week old:

I'm starting to forget the good memories. I can't remember all the good things about Jack and all the best times of my life that we had together. They're falling away and I don't know how to save them. Mostly what I remember now is all the times I have spent crying when I think about him, and the pain in my chest, like I have right now, like I'm suffocating and I can't breathe and my heart's not working. I want my best friend back. I want those memories back and I want all this past year of pain to go away and be forgotten. I don't want to remember all the horrible things I'f thought about him. I'm reaching the point where I would give up the good memories just to forget it all It just doesn't seem worth it anymore.

There are four times I really still remember. After closing night of Annie Get Your Gun, Jack came over, and we just sat downstairs on the couch, for hours. We just sat there. He had his arm around me, and he kept saying, "You're so good. You're so good." And I remember being so sad because I didn't know when I was going to see him again, and I'd been seeing him almost every day all summer, and he was holding my heart in his hands, but it was safe there. I didn't want anything else but him, to keep sitting there with me. And he didn't want to leave. And finally, around two in the morning, we went up to the kitchen and I walked him out to the car, and we hugged for a really long time and then I finally let go, walked back across the street, and from the kitchen door I watched his car drive away until it was over the hill and I couldn't see it anymore.

Sometime around Christmas (of 06), we were walking in the city, and we were going to meet my mom, and Jack held my hand and wouldn't let me go because he didn't want us to get separated in the extra-crowded streets.

When we started our acting exercises in the winter, there was a time when we were creating a picture in our minds, together. We made a beach scene, with a log washed up on shore,  and a dog sniffing it, and a family under a big umbrella, sitting on striped towels. And we put a big gold frame around it. It was our painting, and we both saw it and no one else could. And the whole time, we just spoke quietly, and pointed at places on our painting where we were adding things, and he was simply standing next to me, and we were just us.

He tried to donate blood, early one morning after he had spent the night. He went with my mom; I had donated too recently to go. They didn't let him because he's gay. We went to church that morning, and he slipped his hand into mine, and kept it there for the length of the service. I got to be his support, and he let himself need me.

Oh and that day we had his mom and step-dad over, his mom said she hoped we'd be friends for a long time.

--7.28.08 5:04 pm