Tragedy and Love in Three Parts
I almost died once years ago, and to some for a short period of time I was. “Almost” being the key word in that sentence, and I have actually come very close to it a couple of times since. The details of it aren’t really all that important, at least not in this story. This story is about a girl and why we got into our first argument and how it all played out in the long run.
Part One: The Time I Died in My Friends Eyes.
Everyone had thought I was dead, my mother, my father, my brother, my pastor, my grandparents, and all of my friends. This was due to a policy at the hospital which guards them against law suits. If say the hospital calls and says your son was in a terrible accident get over here, and you ask if your son is OK and they say yes, and then on your way there he dies they can be held accountable for the wrong information. So when my mother went through that exact ordeal their answer was “We can not tell you that.” She proceeded to to call everyone in hysteria and tell them I was dead and she was on her way to the hospital, which conveniently was a good hour away from everyone. All of my friends showed up and lined the hallways praying for me. This caused all of the doctors and nurses to exclaim they have never seen anything like it before. The tears, the prayers, and just the amount of people who showed up. This scene in my head, and the amount of people who drove an hour to visit me in the hospital for a period of two months, is something that brings tears to my eyes every time I think about it. I’m not a person to cry, at funerals, when a pet dies, when I stub my toe, whatever. But this is something that touches me every time, even as I type this. This is why I never talk about it with people, not the part of the accident where there was an outpouring of love at least.
Part Two: Not A People Person.
I was once asked by my friend if I considered myself a people person and my response was “I love people so much I don’t waste my time on the shitty ones.” At my friends wedding, who was one of the people who were there for me at the hospital, I mentioned this fact in the speech I gave. I said “I have a problem making friends because I am spoiled and new people rarely live up to the standards I have for friendship.” And it is true, most people do not have what I have, and most don’t laugh as much as I do. I work with professionally funny people and I still don’t laugh as much as when I am with my close friends. Trust me, neither would you if you ever had the pleasure to spend time with us. I’m known as the guy who is a dick to everyone by my friends at Upright Citizens Brigade. If I don’t like you I make it clear so you will not talk to me again. Well I’m sure by now you have either forgotten or are asking how does all of this involve a girl? Well here is the part where it all ties in and gets poetic in a sense. Now that the back story is done lets begin.
Part Three: Send Me Your Love From Chicago (Please).
It was at the beginning of our courtship that you stood me up. We had plans to see each other and you instead hung out with your friends and blew me off. I was so terribly angered that it could have ruined everything, and now that I think about it…it may have. I may have been “crazy” in your eyes for taking it so badly. My friends wanted to hang out but I said no, I was seeing you and that was more important at the time, I was smitten. I ended up staying home because of this fact and I had to share my anger with you. I told you I have good friends and if this is how you are I didn’t need you in my life. My friends are something amazing and for me to choose you over them and then for you to hurt me like that just upset me beyond belief. I felt I had betrayed them, and for no good reason. I made you cry that night and I’m not proud of that fact. Our relationship started to be up and down after that, a lot of fighting that I’m sure I was at the root of. What made me think of this is the fact I was recently at a park that I hadn’t been to since you and I were something. As I walked past the log where we once sat and I taught you how to take a blade of grass and make it whistle, and the very park where you told me you had a dream we kissed and I realized that it would be OK to kiss you, I couldn’t help but to think of your beautiful face and the good times we had. It didn’t help that as I was leaving the park, in a serendipitous moment, you actually called me at two in the morning. You were calling to tell me how much my writing touches you, which was funny because I was about to write about you. We had our ups and downs, and you are still the only girl with whom at the end of our conversations I share an “I love you” with. We have our fights and we have our love. When together we have a hard time not spending the night laying in bed wrapped in each others arms, even with the knowledge that it will be the extent of our relationship and we will be parting ways to other states as we always do. Although things didn’t end like a fairy tale with you and I it doesn’t upset me. My heart was yours for a short period of time, and I guess in a way it still is in friendship and memories. The romantic and poetic thing to do is say something like “Who knows what the future holds for you and I, a miraculous reunion with kissing and hugging” But you and I both know I’m smitten with someone else now, as are you, and I cant bring myself to say something romantic when it doesn’t involve her. Our future may not hold you and I wrapped in a loving embrace like once long ago, but it does involve many I love you’s on the phone for years to come across state lines, when too much time has passed without us talking and expressing how much we miss one another.