to a friend

I went looking for songs to soothe my soul today, wading through half begun lyrics in search of some kindred emotion, and came up empty. For a while, I wondered why there was no soundtrack for this part of my life. Then, I realized, it's because there are no words for this. No way to explain the ache that comes from missing someone who isn't even gone. No way to convey the pain of two families torn apart. No tune to carry the guilt for missing someone you shouldn't, by rights, even know. I used to think that you had to be in love to have your heart broken. But, to every lovesick soul, I know how it feels to have the pieces of your heart walking around somewhere beyond your reach. I know that slippery slide of unanswered texts and severed intimacy. I know that fear that lurks in the back of the mind, discouraging questions and ruining relationships.

If you're reading this; I shouldn't even miss you. You aren't gone, and you weren't really mine to start out with. The part of me that thinks, the part of me that I loved most, tells me that maybe it's better for everyone involved if I stop trying to pull the ragged edges of this wound back together again. But the part of me that feels, the part of me that you loved most, says that I am the only one holding out hope. And I do hope, and sometimes - well, actually, I always - think that my life would be better if I didn't, because I don't even know what I hope for. To move forward? To simply stop sliding backward? To go back to where we were?

The truth is that I forget where we were.

I can't remember what it was like when our family laughed and played together. When I fit as easily under your arm as my father's. When we all taught your babies to make faces. When jokes flowed freely. I know those things happened, but I can't picture it anymore. There's no picture frame in my mind that can hold the five of us without cracking and shattering under the strain of this enmity. I can't recall what it was to trust anyone completely and to know that my careless damage would not destroy us completely. I forget what it was like when my unannounced presence in your kitchen was carefree and open. I can't remember the last time someone got me the way you do. Loved me the way you do.

Did.

Perhaps you're rolling your eyes, chalking this up to my casual melodrama. But even if you are, even if you hate me now for my hand in our tragedy, know this: that I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for family to be the price you paid for my friendship. Whatever part I've played in this, know that I never meant to hurt you, and that I loved you with all my meagre abilities, and in the only ways I knew how. I know that it was not enough.

I still love you.

And I miss you.