There are times I look back on and laugh at the both of us. Immature, irresponsible, careless. Smoking all the pot and laying in your closet or on the floor laughing about the stupidest of things. Sometimes I picture us going on a drive together and laughing until tears are streaming down our faces. Remember that one time in your basement when we practiced for our “band” that never really went anywhere? We didn’t care. All we cared about was that we were with each other in the same room again. All of those times that we had held each others’ hands and hugged and it was all out of comfort and love rather than romanticism. We were the perfect pair. We were the two that smoked hookah outside of a burrito joint and called weed “skateboard”. We were the two that were too crazy for other people. You and I always had these inside jokes that no one really knew about, no one else could actually keep up with us. There is no one else out there that I could sit and have a conversation with about “boat apartments” and “cats in trees” and there is no one else I’d rather have those memories with. I don’t really know anyone else who would listen to Kanye West with me and laugh at the lyrics one day and sing along the next…or buy like 20 McDonalds sandwiches after getting stoned. There are times that I need you more than anyone else, times where I wish I could just go to your house and curl up in your bed and listen to you play the guitar. There are times that I want to skype you and hear you call me “BANKA!”. I want you to roll up to my house in your shitty but amazing Volvo (even though it’s long gone by now), I want to watch LOST with you and sing with you and I want my best friend. I miss your cluttered bookshelves that smelled of peppermint oil and American Spirits. I miss your multitudes of amplifiers and posters and the snowglobe on your top shelf. You were my first boyfriend and my first guy-best friend and I wouldn’t change our history for the world. We had the best times ever. We just understand each other. You trusted me with your baggage and I trusted you with mine and nothing ever changed that. You were okay with the way I was, my craziness and my dramatic reactions. You were just THERE and now that you’re not always there it sucks. I miss you, Chris. I miss you so much.

I think the most fun time in my life was when Chris and I smoked like every weekend together and forgot a bunch of stuff

like that one time we ate like 20 sandwiches from McDonalds

and that one time I got up to go to the bathroom, came back, and asked if I had gone to the bathroom

ohohoho man

I hope you still think of me and the times we had after smoking together

imagining we were on a boat swaying back and forth feeling the sea mist along with the breeze

listening to music and thinking about anything but reality

letting our system soak up the smoothness and carelessness of our nights together

we were the best, us two. we really were.

ok so here's the thing

i was a huge jerk to my best friend, chris.

i’ve never been that mad at him before; though i felt at the time that i had good reasons to be angry with him, i still confess that it was immature and awful of me to be so mean to him, especially through text message.

I have to see him tonight, and i am praying that he’ll talk to me before hand because it’ll be so incredibly awkward if he doesn’t talk to me or acknowledge my presence.

chris, you are my best friend, and i don’t know who i am without you. I’M SORRY for being such a jerk to you. I’m not a bitch, and you know that.  I was having a hard time that day in general and so were you, you were tired and had a long day at work and i was bossing you around.

i honestly don’t know what else to do. I’ve apologized a billion times.

grr. 

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