The Way You Were

November 7, 2010
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You want to leave, that’s your decision, but you can’t keep saying you’re going to disappear and then do nothing. Don’t you see what you’re putting me through? Don’t you understand the pain you’re causing?

My heart is wilting and you want to construct a bomb in the middle of it. You want to destroy me, why? What did I ever do to you?

The guards standing outside my heart don’t see you slither by when you do. The guards don’t know how you ever got in, your tricks, your ideas, your awful and lethal ways. How ever did you get past them?

Believe you me, sometimes I wonder what happened to you. What really happened that night that turned you so cynical, so disturbed by everything and everyone?

You watch, you observe, you judge everyone. You look at them in lust, sometimes in envy.

Where is that boy I knew?

You were so different.

We were so different.

Screaming and fighting all the time.
You made me want to curse your name all the time.
You, testing everything I said.
When you’d have the audacity to ask how I was when you already knew.
You’d tell me my shoes don’t match my outfit and then kiss my cheek chuckling.
You made me so mad I wanted to rip my hair out.
But that’s the way I loved you, we got so mad at each other we wanted to evaporate from the situation and fast-forward to the part where we made up.
That’s the way I loved you.
But now, you don’t care enough to fight with me.
You don’t care enough to ask questions.
You’re quiet.
You respect my idiot father.
You lie like a rug.
“What happened the night of the accident, what aren’t you telling me because being who you are, being this Jack-Ass I know you aren’t, this wasn’t the boy I fell in love with five years ago.
“You’re breaking me down, you’re tearing me apart, but the sad part is I don’t think you care anymore. Andrew, what happened?”
“Nothing.” You told me not even having the guts to look at me.
“Andrew! That’s the point! That’s exactly what I’m talking about! You don’t even want this anymore. If you’re going to sit here and stare at the walls, what the hell am I here for Andrew?!”
“Company?! Learn how to treat you guest when their over. You used to know how to do that, before Ron died. Everything is different since he died. Andrew, he was my friend too, you’re not the only person who lost someone.”
“You didn’t see the body Annabel, you didn’t hear the screams! I should have been dead, I should have died, but it was him!”
“You can’t blame yourself for what he did. He saved you Andrew! Do you think he did that for nothing, do you think he’d want you moping around, not caring about anyone. He pulled you out of the way to save you and you’re wasting your life.”
“I wasn’t supposed to be saved Annabel! You don’t understand! Just go away! If you don’t like this part of me then there isn’t a point in you staying.”
“Do you want me to stay? Do you want me around?”
That night you broke my heart for the sixth time. I’d made myself believe this fight wasn’t any different than the last. I made myself believe it was just another one of our fights, the ones where we were just going through the motions. But when you didn’t return, when you didn’t call, when you didn’t make eye contact with me in the halls, I had to come to terms it was over.
I watched as you went from high school jock to disgruntled loner. I watched your eyes beat around the cafeteria, accusing everyone, judging everyone, but more so judging yourself and playing over the elusive ‘what if’ statements.
Your feelings kept building and building until that bottle couldn't hold anymore carbonated water after it’s been shaken and shaken and it’s molecules kept jumping off each other and with that slightest twist of someone’s words you exploded throwing your fist into your friends face.
You let your life fall apart in a matter of months and you wouldn’t let anyone help you. I didn’t recognize you, that boy I knew was gone, that boy that was so close to me, so close to everyone, you made me love you so much I could hardly breath, you gave me that warm fuzzy feeling every time we kissed, you sent chills down my spine.
You swore you’d never hurt me and then when we’d get in each other’s faces feeling the venom in our cuts, we pushed, we yelled at each other so lost in the moment that for a second, we didn’t know what we became. Animals. We swore it was done, we were over but neither of us could handle that separation.
Seeing you lash out, seeing you have the first spark of a feeling made me happy, even if you were punching your friend. It meant for the first time in months you felt something. You weren’t numb. Maybe it was stupid on my part but I jumped between to two of you thrashing my body on you—for this is the only time I’d allow it—pushing you away.
“What the hell are you doing?!” I hollered.
“It was his fault!”
“Andrew calm down,”
“You want feeling, you’ve got it, he was the one who ran over Ron; he killed him.”
“You know that’s not possible, they found the car but not the owner, he isn’t the owner.”
“He did it! He was in the car! He was driving,” you yelled in my face, I swore I smelled alcohol in breath.
“Andrew—” John protested.
“Annabel, you asked what I wasn’t telling you! He is it. I saw his face before I was pushed aside.”
You tried jumping at him again but I pushed you back, knocking you further and further from the adrenaline, outside and into the lot.
“Annabel, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?! If what you’re saying is true, why didn’t you tell the police?”
“He asked me not to.” You said softly.
“He was my friend!”
“Your friend, you mean the guy you just socked in the face is your friend.” I gawked.


“Andrew you lied to the police.”


I thought you’d still be annoying, I thought you’d make me angry by that one word answer but I saw the hurt in your eyes, the pain.

“We have to go to the police!”

“No! Annabel we can’t.”

“This is justice for Ron, for his family, what happened to him was man slaughter.”

“Ron wasn’t supposed to die. John doesn’t need to go to jail.”

“Have you lost your mind?! What else is there! What else happened?”

“Ron wasn’t supposed to die.”

“Andrew I know that but—”

“No Annabel! I was supposed to, that was the plan.”

Looking at you, your eyes, I don’t know why I didn’t fit the pieces together then, it shouldn’t have been hard.


“John, he was supposed to…”

“He was supposed to what?” I asked you, stuttering at the words.

“He was supposed to kill… me...”

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