I saw you walking down the street the other day. We made eye contact and that stupid goofy grin spread across your face just like it did so often years ago. I had forgotten about you, I've forgotten almost everything about freshman year. It's hard to remember anything when most of the time all I did was sleep. I blame a lot of that on you. You knew exactly what you were doing, taking advantage of my mental instability because you were older. I thought you were brilliant, you had such a unique way of looking at things. I couldn't comprehend why an older boy would have any interest in me. You told me "life is what you make it", and I suppose I forgot that soon after we lost contact. I've been so sure that my life is what it is because of everyone around me. But it's always been me. I'm my biggest problem. I've talked to my doctor about anti depressants, and am now on them. They help a little, but I find myself wondering if I'll ever function properly without them. You didn't ruin me, but you certainly helped. You think I would have realized how psychopathetic you were after you "erased me from your memory" and then "reversed the process". When we first started talking you said such sweet things to me. I wasn't used to boys liking me, and you were a few years older, I was in heaven. You had so many mind games. You were honestly just so fucked up. My life was falling apart then, and you were no help. I'm getting closer to finding the reason I ended up where I am. Every dot connects in the worst possible way to create a picture I never wanted to see. You were part of my hell.

You held my heart on a silver platter. So accurate only a cliche can describe it. You cause havoc every time you come back. I’ve barely cleaned up since the last time, but here you come with your wrecking ball all over again. Making a mess my mother would shudder at. She asks about you still. Whatever happened to the nice boy down the street? Grew up, grew out, grew apart. Lying. You broke my heart and I watched from above cuz it felt like I was in heaven till reality set. You stomp around the chambers like you own them and at one point you did. You broke me and so I did what you taught me. I destroyed. Everyone and everything. No one left in tact. I even broke you. Shattered with the pieces on the floor. I stepped around them but I’ve got the scars on my feet from all my mistakes. So no, I won’t answer you this time. Because I crush everyone around me, but I’m always the one left bleeding with no ones hand to hold. Chase everyone away who would even consider saying “this will sting” before carefully placing a bandage over my sins. Bandaids only stop the bleeding, keep the infection out, but I’ve seen infections from the inside like the cancer in my blood that I pour onto pieces of paper. People don’t notice disease like that until its too far gone. The alarm clock in my head ticks reminding me there’s not much time left. The gears in my head are constantly turning but I don’t work like a well oiled machine. I could change it all around with maybe some help. But the closest you’ll get is a posed picture with a smile just for you. Just to help you sleep easy at night. I’m fading from the inside out, but you won’t notice till I’m too far gone.

There was a time when the color of your eyes was what inspired the color of my bedroom walls. A time when your smile was all I saw when I closed my eyes, like when you’ve played tetris for too long. You were the lead character in my favorite dreams, which more often than not were reality. It was perfect, except I found you routine. I needed that then, we were predictable and comfortable, and I loved every second of it. You’d talk about how comfortable you were with me, like you could really be yourself. And I was so glad. Those words repeated in my brain, aligning with the sound of every boy before you who had also said them. I couldn’t help but wonder when it’d be that I would find someone I was completely comfortable with. Instead of adjusting myself to the latest trend. You helped me realize that I was a chameleon. Always too flexible. I’ll like most anything, and that’s made it easy to make friends, but hard to keep relationships. Boredom came easily with you. You tried to keep it interesting with breaking it off every few weeks or so, but you could never stay away for long. Once again, just like every boy before you. I regret that. You were such a good kid, filled with ambition and motive, I think I ruined that for you. I revealed to you that there was more to life than prayer and church. It was a whole new world. Unfortunately not quite the same world Aladdin foreshadowed. You’ve spiraled out of control since then, leading girls on like it’s a game, but you’ve got a trick deck. Keeping yourself from getting hurt this time. I broke you, and I’ve watched you try to stitch it all together. Joining the rest of them in desperate attempts at returning to your original self. With each one of these I write, I become more curious as to who it was that ruined me. Congratulations, it wasn’t you. I wish you the best on your journey to the past.

That yellow door symbolizes my teenage years. When I first met you we discovered we lived very close, so we started walking home together. I was infatuated with you. Everyone loved you and wanted to be your friend, but you chose me to walk home with everyday. For weeks we would just sit on your front steps in front of that yellow door. Looking at the sky and talking about trees. What was behind that door intrigued me, but you didn’t invite me in, and I didn’t ask, but I always thought about what was past it. It was like going beyond that door would be getting too close to knowing your life, and that was a mystery you didn’t want me to solve. I found out your mother had died from a friend, and wondered why you had never told me. You were my best friend, but we never really talked about our private lives. One day the air was more frigid than usual, and I asked if we could go in. You hesitated, but went up the front steps and opened the yellow door.  It wasn’t at all like I imagined. Eventually, I met your family, how could I not? I was at your house every day. We played with your cats, and ran around the yard with Bosco, we “made tortillas”, and pronounced words weird. We’d play scrabble and drink tea that tasted an awful lot like marijuana. Your dad would make me vegetarian meals and joke about us getting married. 

You were always with someone, making girls fall for you without any effort. You acted so tough, but I was always there when you cried, and I was the one who threw out your razors. I wondered what it was like to kiss you. And one summer when we were both single, we found out. But much like your house, it wasn’t what I expected, and I almost wish it could have just been as perfect as I imagined. Some things are best that way. Sometimes never knowing the reality is the surest way to be happy.

I know you don’t live there anymore, but sometimes I wish I could just stop and lay down on the front steps. Stare up at the leaves we talked about and remember all the good times we had. You’re moving to California, and I wish I could see you again, but if I don’t I can keep the idea of it perfect, without the spots of reality affecting it. 

Sometimes I drive by that house now and see the yellow door; When I have a house the front door will be white.

You’re talking and I hear every word you say, but I’m staring at your mouth, your chapped lips and slightly crooked teeth, wondering if I could ever fall in love with it and the words it speaks. I turn my attention to your hands and the way they fidget with the trash remaining from the food you just ate, and think of if I’d ever know what it felt like to hold them. The way you walk, it’s more of a saunter, will I ever get butterflies just from seeing you walk towards me? Could I love you and all your traits and flaws if you let me?

You’re staring at me now with a questioning look, and I suppose I heard every word you said, but I wasn’t really listening. I guess you had asked me a question and I quietly say no, praying to God that’s what you wanted. A smile spreads across your face, no was the right answer.

I’m already in love with your smile.

I found a photo of you today. I didn’t recognize you at first. It was like I vaguely remembered you from a dream. I had spent years learning your face, every freckle. The three on your arm that were shaped in a perfect triangle. I knew the way your arms tensed, how you clenched your jaw and shook your head rapidly when upset. I knew the face you made when you were lying, but only about small things. I knew your different laughs, and your overused jokes. I knew your family and your pets. I knew you so well. I wasn’t sure of what you were capable of then, but over time I learned.

I recognized your face in the photo, and realized it wasn’t a dream, but instead a nightmare; I don’t know you.

I'm doing this new thing where I write about someone from my past who has had some effect on me. Some of the people are current, who I think have the potential to change things, alter who I am.
Enjoy, or don't. Doesn't matter to me, really.