Still - Volcano Choir

I keep taking things.. with out taking them in.

Justin came into town again this weekend. And it made me realize that every time I go to pick him up and bring him here, it's because each time I'm hoping it will feel somewhat like it used to. Our silence is weird. I hate it, but at the same time love the fact that it's not uncomfortable at all when it's so quiet that I can hear the rain falling on my car window.

What we did wasn't what I would of planned. We were never combined with each others friend groups. It was always just us. Now we have to be around other people to have fun. We never needed that before. I didn't want him to meet my friends, because he really doesn't know how to be social with anyone anymore, and none of them would understand him. I didn't want to smoke with him, because when he's high he's even more quiet. I didn't want to take him to a party where every ones dressed up, and he's in basketball shorts and this plain white polo with a big coat on. Where all the people who saw him would laugh and say how random he is. Where when he asks for a drink, girls start yelling at him, "Get your own fucking alcohol."

He'd just stand there. And stare. And at one point I looked over at him, he was standing alone by the table watching a bunch of drunk people playing beer pong. I made eye contact with his red eyes and felt.. alone. This wasn't what was great about our friendship. You can't pull somebody into those things after years of not seeing them, and expect it to feel the same. All of that, he's used to. That's all he has in his town. I want to pull him into something different. But that's not what he wanted, this was what he wanted. And I just wanted him to have fun. I wanted him to talk. When we'd be sitting in my room, or driving nowhere with redbulls in the cup holders, I was okay. This isn't the way I wanted to bring our friendship back to life. If I followed what I really wanted to do, I would of invited him to my house, I would of made food, and put Family Guy on the big screen TV downstairs. I would of hooked up the PS3 so we could play video games. And tell him stories about all the things he's missed out on.

Best friends isn't always forever. And it took years for me to convince myself that. I remember one night my freshman year, during winter, I was in my step moms car in the back seat. My dad in the front seat. I started crying. And I kept trying to blink it away and stay quiet because I didn't want them to see. By the time they parked in the drive way and opened their doors to go inside, I stayed in the back seat and put my head in my hands and let myself cry. It was raining and I was cold. As they were unlocking the front door to go inside my dad looked back and saw that I was still in the car, he turned around and opened the door and asked what was wrong. I told him I wished Justin still lived here. I said, "I'm not going to be the same person with out him as a friend. My life won't be the same." And he said, "But maybe you can remember that person you were when he was a friend." And for months I thought about how if maybe I don't lose the person I was when he was my friend, then maybe I can still feel good about our friendship. And I myself could be a constant reminder of what used to be great.

But I didn't keep that. And no, I don't regret the person I became with out him around. But I do regret ever bringing him back into my life and creating our friendship into something that it was never supposed to be. I regret making any of this a memory.. and not letting go, and just letting the good ones be the only thing I have to hold onto.