"Every word you say, I think
I should write down
Don't want to forget come daylight."
"I should know who I am by now."
Once upon a time
a few mistakes ago
a manboychildthing wrote to me and said
I really thought he was gonna grab my hand, pull me close and threaten to rip my soul in half."
It continues to be the funniest thing
I have ever read. Just looking at it makes me
want to howl. My poor dad.
He told me that I was Sybilla
and Vesper Lynn.
And we determined that I was a goddess.
Once, we prayed together and
I saw things for weeks after
in the air and water and mirrors
and there was power there.
We were heinous at times to each other
I scratched him so hard, I drew blood and left scars
His sister once tore his shirt because she didn't want us dating.
I slapped him. He didn't sit next to me during key events and
during our prom, the teachers made fun of the fact that my main rival
for his affections was his best male friends.
I'm pretty sure at one point I tried to set him on fire
He tickled me during class so I screamed during ridiculous moments
and would NOT let me play with his calculator.
He was mean to me about being catholic
and I to him about absolutely everything.
He once wrote
You literally are the worst thing to happen to any human being whatsoever and the greatest pox on men. And quite honestly you don't offer very much to anyone, but I still love you.
I have never been so pissed in my life.
I've never forgotten those words.
We were friends long before anything ever happened.
It was like a violent sort of friendship, one that revolved around
antagonistic behavior and being frustrated and tired all the time,
a common thread in many a high school setting.
There were times, though, that I was so fucking proud of him
I could have screamed it to the rooftops.
I hate the word lame
and he used it around me frequently just to make me crazy.
Senior year he sat behind me in English every other semester
and said the most random inane shit I've ever heard in my life
and got me in trouble all the time for baiting me into talking to him.
He also once called me a cold tamale.
We had the best banter of anyone.
We were harsh and cruel and I had teachers ask
why we hung out if we were so mean to each other
but there were lovely parts too, parts where we supported and
comforted and loved, things that I remember more than the time he told me
that he didn't care.
That we weren't real.
I was so rage-filled at times
and he was there, like a wall
and he took it and dealt with it
and I found that infinitely fascinating.
We publicly yelled at each other
but if I ever make it to the top of the Tower
I will shout his name.
When we liked each other we were bad
and when we didn't, we were worse
and we pissed off teachers with our physicality
whether we were kissing or just shoving each other
down the hallway, it was like watching a forest burn.
At the same time, he was stone
and I was water.
I could crack him and break him or nurture him and love him
but he was still there.
I once told him I was not an option, I was a priority.
When we broke up,
when I destroyed him, because what else could I do
but burn and main and kill
what I loved?
What else does a goddess do but demand sacrifice
from the ones that love her?
But now I am no longer the Lord his God(dess)
and I am less angry
and somewhat less destructive
and perhaps, perhaps, perhaps
there could be beauty in the friendship
because more than I miss the worship,
I miss laughing with him every day
and knowing he got what I was saying.
Therefore, as friends
we shall be again.