A first-hand account of the fallout from one drunken summer night in July 2005.

Sunday, April 11, 2010


I write these words as I ache to see you. I miss the sound of your voice, although I am battling with myself over grabbing the phone and dialing your number. I'm sure you would answer, at this time of night on the other end of the country, you're home.

You have totally consumed me the past few months, almost to the point of no return, until that day you called to say you were leaving. You had said this before and I always knew you were never serious. This last time, I knew there was no changing your mind. In the blink of an eye, I went from looking for an apartment for us to packing a suitcase and jumping aboard with you for one last ride. That last ride was over much too quickly, across the country in two days. The following two days were not unlike the last 6 months of our lives: wild, crazy, rushed. That drive to the airport that night was not something I wanted to face. I was coming back, you were staying. It was cold and raining, and the once I realized it was going to happen, all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around you and kiss you forever. We were late, the airline staff was hurrying me, and I didn't even get to come close to the goodbye I had planned. Maybe it was best this way, since you keep telling me it's only temporary. I almost got that new place anyway. You told me two nights ago to wait for you. I will always wait for you.

Even though we've known each other our whole lives, the last few months have changed everything for me. Everything I thought I wanted, everything I thought I could control, especially around you, have all changed. I fight to go to sleep every night since I left you in that airport. I am constantly preoccupied by you. Words like "invade" and "haunt" are completely inappropriate. I invite the thought of you, memories of your face, your smile that makes your almost-inhumanly blue eyes ignite, to the way your face falls and lets me know, without fail, that you're sad. I can read you entirely by looking at your face. You cannot hide emotion. You can, however, confuse the hell out of me when it comes to what I think you want from me. Well, I'm almost entirely sure I know what you want, what you know you can have, you're just scared. You know that I'm the only person who has ever really and truly loved you, because everyone else you have ever known seems to hate you for the same reasons that I do love you. It's what makes you you. If we could make it through the last 6 months alive, God knows what the future could hold.

I want you to come back. I told you that the other night on the phone. I miss you so much, Buck. My life has been so completely empty without you here. Your shirt still smells like you. Everytime I hear a truck drive by, I wake up and for a second think it's you, and then I fully awake and I know it's not. You know how I feel. I know you know. With all the things we've done, it's impossible for you not to know that it's something more for me. I thought I had been through this before, that it could never get any worse, but it can, and it has. This time is different though, it's not him. It's you. You're a game-changer. And you want it. And I want to give it to you. Just find what you're looking for, and come home to me. I love you.