My Best Friend, Michael

It was fall and the leaves just started turning colors. It was a Friday morning and my alarm, regrettably, started honking at 7:30 a.m. I must have hit snooze at least six times until the inevitable eight part knock confronted the outside of my door. I drug myself out of bed, while yelling, “Holdddd onnnnn!” at the loudest volume I could mustard up for that hour of the morning.

A pair of black sweatpants, flip flops, and one red hooded sweatshirt later, I swung my dorm room door open to find him wearing those same brown sandals, dark skinny jeans, and that snug maroon waffle knit shirt I had become accustomed to. He had a heavy, yet friendly, knock I could finally recognize after three years. He greeted me with that smile that always assured you things would work out, even when you thought otherwise. If anything, that smile was genuine and will probably fix many hearts in the future.

He wasn’t impatient or irritated in having to wait for my beautifying session to finally conclude, as many men would not have the patience to wait around. He called it “spending quality time”. These days, quality time seemed to be at the top of his list. He embraced me with those muscular arms that wouldn’t harm a fly, but always made me feel safe and protected. His tight squeeze woke me up instantly and prepared me for our inevitable brisk walk to our Marketing class.

Every word he spoke was confident and his tone made you embrace his every syllable. As we talked about the essay due that morning, his eyes rarely strayed away from mine. He was the king of eye contact. Sometimes, I thought he saw my thoughts in my eyes before I even said them out loud. I can’t say that didn’t make me nervous at times. He was my best friend, who wasn’t much for conversation, but when he spoke, people listened.

He wore his heart on his sleeve and spoke louder through his actions than through any of his words. Behind that tough and poised attitude, he was vulnerable and a little broken. I knew him inside and out, probably more than he would have liked. He kept a secret I saw glimpses of, every now and then. He missed her soft, motherly touch and her voice that just made his whole world right. I could spot that longing gaze upon this face a mile away. I can only imagine the way his heart ached when thinking about his life without her.

After this past summer, he hugged tighter, laughed more often, and cherished life at a higher level. We never talked about his secret, but rather, only talked about all of mine. That’s what’s great about best friends, I guess. You don’t have to talk about it for it to be real or understood.

Sunset of Heartbreak

My sister, my friend
Do you see the sunset
Full of an array of colors
Reds, yellows, and even some browns

The sinking of the sun
In the beautiful November sky
On the day of thanks and fulfillment
Becomes a shadow of my sinking heart

My sister, my friend
I hurt, I pine for him
The touch of his soft blond hair
The gentle colors of his eyes

I can remember the shape of his fingers
The tattoo on his right arm
His unique laugh that was always louder than those around him
His presence that made me hold my breath every time

Memories of the good are overshadowed
By the thoughts of all the shooting, the pain, my fears
Blood covering his head, arms, legs
Killing of those who are innocent and good

My sister, my friend
I miss him every second of every day
Knowing that he is serving his country
Does not bring comfort nor any ease to me

I regret not sharing with him
Every thought that has ever entered my mind
I have told him that I truly love him
Could I have told him in how many ways

My sister, my friend
I recognize his motives for fighting
I understand his outlook on life
I realize that my thoughts are always with him

As I stand here with you
My sister, my friend
I finally realize that he, my love, my all
May never come back to me, not now, not ever

Just Needed You

Our life, our memories
Flashed before my eyes
That night.

I never thought
I would feel that afraid
To hear your mother’s voice.

“Patrick has been in an accident.”
I repeated those words in my head
Over and over and over again
The whole way home.

I can’t remember my drive back to you
The longest three hours of my life.
I can’t remember entering the hospital
Or even where I parked my car.

I hugged multiple people
Including your sister and mine.
I don’t seem to remember the words they spoke
Or even how long I was in the waiting room.

I only cared about where you were
And what condition you were in.
I needed to see you
And find that you were okay and alive
With my own two eyes.

You were unconscious
And unable to speak.
I could barely breathe
When I heard those words.

My eyes were glassy and wet
I think my hands were even shaking a little.
I sat quietly, with my face in my hands
Thinking of what was to come, what already happened.

I spent the next twenty-four hours
Holding your hand and talking to you
Explaining that I needed you to wake up, to speak, to move one muscle
Jesus, I just needed you.