You were there while I became me.
You loved me once, I think, such as we knew how at the time. We were so young. I wanted to love you back, and I did, but not the way you'd hoped.
Still, you grounded me, something about you being you made it safe for me to be me.
How selfish I was, and I'm sorry.
I sank right into that safe spot you gave me, even if part of me knew that wasn't fair.
When I think of you I hear Jars of Clay, Counting Crows, Wallflowers, your voice and mine, pure joy, that was.
Car rides in my dumpy Camry, remember "Happy" with the stickers and the bouncing speakers? You guys were always backseat driving, I hated that.
Stewart's for over-sweet cappuccinos
Movie rentals at that creepy place next door
Walking around the lake
Sneaking out to do dumb things at night, no more flashlights, every step memorized after so many years.
How many times did we work so hard we were soaked in sweat, fall into bed exhausted and wake up shivering the next morning to huddle by the fire place just waiting for the sun to come up and let us shed our layers?
How many hours in the high school workers lounge? There's that picture of us sleeping. I love it more now.
I left you, I know I did. After the wedding it somehow felt weird to be so close.
I didn't want private jokes without him. I'd hoped you'd be fast friends, but the parts of me that connected with each of you were so different.
I made a choice and I would choose this life 100 times, but I hate that it probably hurt you.
I saw you.
I heard you reaching out over the years, I knew your walls were crumblin, but what could I do (I thought). I realized we didn't know each other anymore. I gave up the right.
I'm sorry. I still don't know what I'd do.
Maybe we could have sung together one more time. That always made me happy. I don't know what made you happy anymore.
I saw something about Counting Crows today and I was there again, with you, and my heart hurt, because I miss living in a world that had you in it.
The parts of me that came from knowing you ache sometimes like a phantom limb.
Maybe I'm not allowed to be sad because we were friends so long ago, but it doesn't matter.
Be well, my friend, save a duet for me. I know we're supposed to be singing praise, but maybe He wouldn't mind an old cult classic once in a while.
You loved me once, I think, such as we knew how at the time. We were so young. I wanted to love you back, and I did, but not the way you'd hoped.
Still, you grounded me, something about you being you made it safe for me to be me.
How selfish I was, and I'm sorry.
I sank right into that safe spot you gave me, even if part of me knew that wasn't fair.
When I think of you I hear Jars of Clay, Counting Crows, Wallflowers, your voice and mine, pure joy, that was.
Car rides in my dumpy Camry, remember "Happy" with the stickers and the bouncing speakers? You guys were always backseat driving, I hated that.
Stewart's for over-sweet cappuccinos
Movie rentals at that creepy place next door
Walking around the lake
Sneaking out to do dumb things at night, no more flashlights, every step memorized after so many years.
How many times did we work so hard we were soaked in sweat, fall into bed exhausted and wake up shivering the next morning to huddle by the fire place just waiting for the sun to come up and let us shed our layers?
How many hours in the high school workers lounge? There's that picture of us sleeping. I love it more now.
I left you, I know I did. After the wedding it somehow felt weird to be so close.
I didn't want private jokes without him. I'd hoped you'd be fast friends, but the parts of me that connected with each of you were so different.
I made a choice and I would choose this life 100 times, but I hate that it probably hurt you.
I saw you.
I heard you reaching out over the years, I knew your walls were crumblin, but what could I do (I thought). I realized we didn't know each other anymore. I gave up the right.
I'm sorry. I still don't know what I'd do.
Maybe we could have sung together one more time. That always made me happy. I don't know what made you happy anymore.
I saw something about Counting Crows today and I was there again, with you, and my heart hurt, because I miss living in a world that had you in it.
The parts of me that came from knowing you ache sometimes like a phantom limb.
Maybe I'm not allowed to be sad because we were friends so long ago, but it doesn't matter.
Be well, my friend, save a duet for me. I know we're supposed to be singing praise, but maybe He wouldn't mind an old cult classic once in a while.
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