Your birthday is coming up. I always think of you on your birthday. Everyone that I was ever close to, for some reason I always remember their birthday,even if we're not in each others lives anymore. It's some weird idiosyncrasy, I think. Ever since I found out 2 years ago, I feel so bad for your family around your birthday. I know they are thinking of you. If I remember, how can they not? This year you should be turning 34. But you're not.
We met in high school band. You knew me before I knew you. You had your eye on me, and I was unsuspecting and clueless. I admired you from a distance. I thought you were cute. Too cute for a girl like me; a nobody. You started hanging around, trying to be in my radar. It was strange and new to me. You asked me out and I was in shock. I couldn't believe this was happening to me. My first ever boyfriend, and he's gorgeous!
We were so innocent. You were my first kiss. So embarrassing, because you KNEW you were my first kiss! You were my first taste of love. I don't think any feeling could compare to the high of the first time you're in love. And like teenagers do, we were hot and heavy on the make-out scene. You made me feel electric. But, you were ready for something that I wasn't. I was 14, and too young and scared to go all the way. So despite being head over heels in love with you, I broke up with you. At the time, I thought it was the right thing to do. I was afraid to keep turning you down. I thought you would break up with me or cheat on me. I didn't think my fragile heart could take it. Every moment after I broke up with you, I regretted it back then. I don't think I even told you why. I used to wonder, had I told you, would you have reassured me that it wasn't a big deal, and that we could wait? The sad thing is that I wanted it. I wanted you to be my first, but I was just too scared.
We talked for a few years after that. We still got along really well. I always hoped you would know how much I still cared and wanted you to ask me out again, but you never did. We lost touch for a long, long time. Into adulthood, I had always wondered how life was treating you. I always thought of you on your birthday.
2 years ago, I found your sister on Facebook. I looked at her wall and at her pictures. There were none of you. But, I did see pictures of your son, Raymond James. He's a year younger than my daughter. He looks just like you. But where were you? So I got the balls to message your sister, and ask how your were, and ask her to pass a message along that I wanted to say, hello. 2 days later she replied. With much sadness, she told me that you had passed away a few years back. It was more than a few years. It was 6 years. You died at the age of 25. It was an "accidental" overdose of prescription pain killers. I did the math. Your son was only 5 months old.
I was tremendously sad for your son. I was also so flippin' angry at you. How could you do that to him? He was just a baby, and he will never, ever know what an amazing person and dad you could be. I know you would have been amazing. You practically raised your nephew, and he was always with you. He was your buddy. I can only think that you must have been hurting so much in your life to go out like that. I think what you did was the most selfish thing ever. It took me a long time to not be angry at you. And now, I'm just sad. You are missing out on your little boy. He is growing up without you, and knowing that his father took the coward's way out.
And there are questions. Why didn't anyone see the pain and help you? Were you stubborn? Were you too far gone to reach? Things I will never know, and will never ask your sister. It's not my place to hurt her with these questions. Especially since I am nothing to you or to her.
Every year on your birthday, I play and post a song in your memory. It's called Far Behind. I hope you know it's for you. I still think of you. I miss the person you used to be. Your sister said that you would have been happy to know that an old friend was thinking of you. That makes me feel better. You used to tell me that some day, when we're in our 40's, we would both be divorced, and find each other, and get back together and it would be just like we were in high school. The silly things teenagers say. You owe me, buddy.
Wherever you are, I hope you are well. I hope you are watching over your boy.
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