Speak Up

It started with a random meeting. A chance encounter with a beautiful boy. I wasn't used to any attention from guys but he noticed me. We began talking and really hit it off. He would call me every night and talk about anything and everything. Especially the stars, we both loved the stars. His laugh was the best part. He was always laughing and it lit up his whole face. It was on of those laughs you read about, that makes their eyes sparkle and makes the room brighter and makes you feel lighter. We saw each other several times, my favorite is when we watched Boondocks Saints and just laid on the couch together. I had never felt more peaceful and happy than I felt in that moment. He was gentle and beautiful and kind. The next day was very different. Out of the blue he told me that it wasn't going to work out between us. He told me that he had things he needed to sort out in his life. He asked if we could stay friends. I was absolutely crushed, broken. I threw the offer in his face, saying I didn't want to talk to him. Three weeks passed, and every once in awhile I would get the urge to say "Hi", but my pride and aching heart didn't let me. In January I heard the news. He had died. He had been in recovery for a meth addiction, relapsed, and died. I didn't even know. I had absolutely no idea until that moment that he was on meth. He really did have things going on in his life and he just didn't want to get me involved in them. There are no words to truly describe the feeling at hearing that news. A deep aching emptiness that you dry to drown with tears. An open wound in your chest. A sea of regret and unfounded guilt. I threw his friendship away and I wasn't there. He was sick with this terrible addiction and that took him away from me and stole his life. It has been almost five months and I cannot honestly tell you that I am alright. I don't sleep well and my thoughts turn to him when I am alone. I constantly feel like I am on the verge of tears. They always teach us in school that these meth addicts are scary, crazy people who have oozing scabs all over their bodies and would kill you for your pocket money. That may be true in some cases, but they don't tell you about the meth addict who is in recovery and relapses. Who seems whole and healthy. Whose laugh can make you fall in love. They don't tell you about the hole that get ripped in your chest when they die. About the regret and guilt and longing. I was never prepared for this. I just want him back.