Sometimes I wonder

I know there's two sides to every story.

I know my side.

But sometimes... sometimes I wonder what his side of it was.

I know how I felt.  What I don't know is how he felt.  I know how hurt and broken and sad and upset and angry I was at the end of it and after I (rather immaturely) ended it - our friendship.  I remember how happy I was hanging out with him sometimes.  But then I also remember how scared I was when he yelled or got mad at other people.  I remember the look in his eyes when he was mad at someone else and was trying not to let it show, and I remember how much that look scared me inside.  But I remember the happy times too, when I let myself.

I don't know what he remembers of our friendship.  Our... whatever it was.  Whatever there was between us.  I don't know if I every cross his mind.  I don't know if he knows that I still freak out inside when I'm on that side of the river, how scared I am that I'll run into him again.  And it's not that I'm scared of him.  Not exactly.  Because I won't ever let him that close again.  No, I'm scared that if I see him again, I might let him back in.  I'm scared if I saw him again, I'd want to go back.  I'd want to be friends again.  Because some part of me does miss the happy times and the fun we had together.  Part of me does miss 1 AM trips to Wal*Mart and hanging out in Toys R Us after they were closed because we were there so often that the workers let us stay for a bit after they closed.  Part of me misses joking around with him.  Misses riding around in his car, playing the mix CDs we made.

I'm the immature one.  I know.  I know how immaturely I acted.  I know I ended it wrong.  He called that night to talk, but it was too late by that point.  I was already hurt and angry and broken and I didn't want to talk.  I needed time.  But still.  I acted like a scared little kid.  My sister answered the phone.  I was curled up in my bed, with the light in the room off, curled up in a little ball crying in a way I didn't even realize it was possible to cry in.  My sister answered and told me it was him and he wanted to talk.  I yelled across the room for him to leave me alone, said I didn't want him to ever talk to me again.  And at the time, I think I meant it.  But I was so... upset.  I considered him to be my best friend.  And then he wasn't anymore.  Because when the arguments got too frequent, when everything... I couldn't anymore.  I couldn't do it.  I couldn't be friends with him.

But I really do wonder what his side of the story was.

He apologized once.  A year and a half after we'd stopped talking to each other.  I read the facebook message he'd sent me and I cried.  I deleted it without responding.  I don't think he reads this.  I don't even know if he knows I post stuff on here.  But look, more than a year after your apology, here's my response.

I'm sorry.  I'm sorry our friendship ended.  I'm sorry I was so immature at the very end.  I'm sorry for the way I acted at the end.  I'm just sorry, ok?  I hope your life is going great.  I hope you got into the school you wanted to transfer to.  Truth?  I still think about you from time to time.  I wonder how you're doing.  I wonder how your life is.  I wonder if you still ever think of me.  Sometimes I wish we could go back to before everything went wrong and fix it somehow, even though I know we can't.  There's times when I wish we were friends again, but I can't.  I'm sorry.  Things won't ever be the same.  Things will never go back to the way they were before I ended everything.  If you ever do read this... I just... thank you.  I mean, thank you for giving me time.  Thank you for not pushing things and messaging me again and again after I didn't respond to your message.  I know you probably thought I was still mad, or something.  But I wasn't.  I wasn't still mad.  Your message was so unexpected.  I didn't ever expect to hear from you ever again, not after the way things fell apart.  When I saw I had a new message, when I clicked it and saw your name... I blushed.  I don't know why, but my face got all red.  And my heart started beating faster.  Tears pooled in my eyes before I even read the message.  I haven't read it since the day I got it, because I deleted it right after reading it, but the line where you said "have a great life" I just started crying.  I don't know why.  But I cried.  And I deleted it.  At least partly because I didn't know what to say back.  I don't know what else to say.  I hope you remember the happy times.  I hope you remember the fun.  I hope you remember watching movies on the TVs at Walmart in the middle of the night.  I hope you remember that time you tried on different dresses in the mall, and the guy working there knew right away what size dress you would wear... because it was the same size he wore!  I hope you remember laughing together.  I hope you remember blasting Party In The USA whenever it came on the mix tapes.  I hope you remember the good times we had together.  And above everything else, I hope you have a great life.  I'm sorry about the way things ended.  And I'm sorry we can't ever go back to before everything.  But I hope your life is great now.  I hope everything goes perfectly for you, now and in the future.

Do you know what brought this whole thing back up?  Do you know what made me think about him again, made me wonder what his side of the whole thing was?  I was listening to music on iTunes... and "No One Else" by Allison Iraheta came on.  There was more than one time when I had these lyrics as my facebook status, about him:

There's simply no one else in the world I could ever find

Who likes me when I'm low and still tolerates me when I'm high

You, you got me down,

You kept coming 'round.

There's simply no one else I could lean on a thousand times

Still be there again and again, never lose his mind

You know me so well

You can't even tell

That you're like no one else.

and

You're too good

What did I do to deserve you?

There's other songs on iTunes that remind me of him.  Like all the Journey songs I have, for example.  I only have them because I borrowed the Journey CD he had in his car one time.  And Party In The USA.  But No One Else, that's the song that made me think about him again.  Because that's the song I would I have used to describe him back then.  Before things got bad.  Before things ended.