...And We All Fall Down

   Yesterday, the person inside me died. Leaving nothing behind, but the shell of a man. My heart was infected by the loss of a woman's love, who I sought for many years. The last few months hollowed me out, I forgot who I am. I forgot how to live.
   We ceased living together months ago and during those first few, I was strong. I ignored angry, threatening and sad text messages. The kind sent with hurtful intentions. My days right then were spent in the sun at my family's cottage. I've never felt lonely in the hot sun. The heat rubbed my shoulders and warmed my heart. The light always made my soul glow. I made new acquaintances as old friendships rekindled. Everyone came to visit me. We fished, drank, sat around the fire and got stoned. It inspired me to write and I applied for school. Life was good.
   As the seasons turned, so did my attitude. I wasn't being honest to my heart. I broke down and responded to my former lover's "summer's worth" of texts with an email. I still had many feelings for her and let her know the messages she sent did not make it simple to communicate. She was my best friend and I didn't want either of us to be hurt by one another. We both let our guards down and began to text message back and forth. She made me laugh. My heart then slapped my brain and said, "Hey, are you awake up there? If you haven't noticed, we're in love. We could really use your help, man!". Unfortunately, my brain didn't take the kinds of actions my heart expected.
   I still had things at our apartment that I needed to retrieve, considering I don't live there now. My grand idea was to drive forty minutes there, fetch my stuff and hopefully get to spend some time with her. It worked out great. We decided to go out for the evening, one thing eventually led to another and we had a "sleepover". I left the next day feeling high-spirited, even though the car was full of my shit from our life together.
   Over that week, we lightly chatted and I was happy to have her back in my life. The week after was different. In an unconvincing tone, she told me that she just wanted to be friends and didn't want to carry on an intimate relationship. My heart dropped and knocked the wind out of me at that moment. Our conversation ended awkwardly and I hung up the phone.
   After a couple of days, I wrote another email. My love for her is the truest I've ever known. I could never bare witness to her in the arms of another man. A real life friendship could not exist for me with her, under those terms. I poured my heart out and hoped she would reconsider working on "Her and I" as an "Us". A few days passed, no response. I was feeling crushed. I began making plans to get the apartment we have together off of my plate completely. I sent her a text and to my surprise she responded with concern. She even apologized for not replying to my email. I had caught her off guard and she did not know what to say. We planned to meet up and talk about it. My brain had the bright idea, to throw in there, that I would grab the rest of my stuff that didn't fit in my car the last time.
   This week, I came to our apartment in the middle of the afternoon. It was nice to be "home". She had passed a test she was worried about for school that morning and we were happy to see each other. She asked me if I could explain my feelings about us only being friends together, better. It only took few words, but was difficult to spit out. I said, "If we can't work on us, I can't be your friend.". We sat on the couch and verbally disagreed, but our actions did not.
   We made love, went out to our favorite restaurant, watched movies and continued to make love the rest of the night. We had coffee early in the morning and she gave me a kiss before she left for a class she was required to attend. I told her I would stick around to fix the headlight on her car and have lunch with her. When she returned, we curled up in bed one more time before running our final errands. We both felt amazing when we left the house.
   At lunch, I finally asked her about a response to my email. She told me she didn't think she could try working on "Us", I lost my appetite. When we left the restaurant it was beautiful outside. Michigan's infamous autumn colors made it feel less chilly. We got in the car and she turned on her Pandora radio. The song that played was "First Day of My Life" by Bright Eyes.
   I stared out the window and listened to the lyrics. He sang about true love. Just after a minute into the song he sings these words, "...but I know where I want to go. And so I thought I'd let you know, that these things take forever. I especially am slow, but I realize that I need you and wondered if I could come home..". I lost it right then and started to weep. All of the feelings I was experiencing were exposed with those few words. I cried like a bitch, it was not manly of me at all. She noticed quickly, placed her hand perfectly into mine, held it tight and cried right with me.

   As the song requested, I made it home. However when I got there, I ended up grabbing the rest of my shit and loaded into my car. I told her I am sorry I couldn't be her friend. I also told her if she found the will in her heart for "Us", to never be afraid to let me know. She walked down to the car with me and we passionately kissed. I drove away as she walked up the stairs back to our door, excuse me, her door.
   From there, I drove an hour to a friend's house and got drunk on whiskey. I ended up making an ass out of myself, put a strain on a great friendship and came back to the cottage. This morning I woke up, started writing and soon felt the bottom beneath my feet.
   I've finally hit it, the bottom. After a summer of free-falling, I can finally stand. The future, for now, will be only mine. I still long to share it with my lost Love, and I know that may never happen. I am going to hit the road for a little while and be the man that I long to be. I once stated, "Living is fucking cool no matter the age.". Maybe my brain was right after all and just perhaps today is the "First Day of My Life".

~Scotty J. - That really says it all, thanks Mr. Fitzgerald.