This story has a dedicated soundtrack, as always music is a language that conveys a lot of emotion that can only be said with so many words. Please if this is your thing and you enjoy the story I suggest taking the time to listen to this beautiful piece of music which helped me find the emotion this story needed.
Ryan. I’ll just call you Ryan, like I always did. I spoke with Taylor today; he has changed so much. His voice has gotten deeper; he has pimples, and his hair has gotten longer, and above all, he's taller than me now. He was asking how I was doing and how I was settling and I, for the most part, I told him I was enjoying it. Well, school is okay… it would be a lot better, of course, sharing my experiences with you. He was all friendly and sweet about the situation, though out of nowhere he told me he was sorry to hear about you. I didn't know what to say; I don't think I'd even have the words to comprehend what to say, even if he asked me to do so. What was I supposed to say to that? "I'm sorry to hear about Ryan." Sigh… I told him "I'm doing okay…" though, in reality, I don't think I’m doing so good. I haven't spoken to anyone else about you, and well, I don't think I plan to. I mean I'm a boy, right? I can handle this. I can’t just go around and be all sad like and cry. People would see that as a weakness. Then over the next couple of school years, I'll have gained a reputation for being" the kid that cries in school.”I’m not sure what got to me about the conversation, but I think it was because he said that about you. Taylor is a cool guy, but not as awesome as you.
I started my first band practice; I'm playing the piano again. I guess the teacher thinks I'm doing okay enough for me to be able to be selected for solos. I keep half expecting to turn around and see you with a tuba or something behind me deafening the entire class. I know that would be something you'd do for a kick. I think you would have liked the music we’re playing. It's not too classical, and it's not too old; it's kind of a mix of old school and new. The music teacher is trying to keep it modern enough so that we can get into the music but give it the facelift it needs.
Also, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, not that I wanted to tell you this, but considering that we've always told each other stuff, I decided I didn't want to hide this from you. Megan is hanging around that guy Thomas from the east side of town. You know the blond headed dude that is always practicing kicking footballs down on the school grounds when the local team is not practicing or playing, yeah well, him. Apparently, I've heard he's getting really good. But I just thought you'd like to know that Megan is kind of going out with him, I guess. I'm not sure; I haven’t asked or anything, but it sure looks that way to me. So, I’m sorry dude.
Oh, and yeah, I was also in our 7th-grade building. I was called out of class from my teacher, which hardly ever happens and she asked me could I run across to the other building and hand these musical instruments in, because they needed them for their next class since we had borrowed them. Well, I did, and well, I passed through the front door and walked toward the reception. I passed by our old lockers; you know the one I accidentally on purpose locked you in. Yeah well, that one, and I'm still entirely sorry about that;it was a mistake. I was joking about it, I shut the door, and it locked, and I pretended I couldn't open it. The next thing I knew was that I couldn't actually open it. I dialed that bloody combination in about ten times, and after I was about to have a nervous breakdown, it finally opened. You were panicking when you were locked in there, but when I opened it, you were so relaxed and collected. I remember when I opened it, you smiled coyly with a smirk to it. Then your usual witty self quickly started; you gave me the middle finger through the tiny crack of the open door. But you were quick to jump out of the locker when I threatened to close it again. That was a funny moment, maybe not for you or me, but I think we both found it amusing afterward. Anyway, I better stop writing this letter and start my homework; I'll write another letter soon.
Ryan, you won’t believe what I heard today, our song, I heard it. It was on the radio in the car when my mom picked me up from school. Given that the weather today was shit, when I got in the car the song was playing on the radio. I didn't exactly know what to do with the emotional baggage that came with the lyrics and the stupid guitar and set of clashing drums in the background. The song just reminded me of you, and as I sat there looking out the window at the world fly by in the rain, I felt this somber darkness in my heart. It felt extraordinarily sharp; I don't know how to explain it, but it really, really hurt. Even more than when we were playing hockey in the winter, and you hit my shinbone. Yeah, that bloody hurt, but this emotion cut more than all the time's something like that has hurt me. It felt like my heart sunk to the most profound trench, had been ripped out, stabbed and then bandaged up before surgically placed back inside my chest. I hate that song now; it really hurt. Why did you have to introduce me to that song? I have spent the last hour on and off crying. I tell you this because I practically tell/told you everything and I can't shake the deep sadness which is now in my heart. I never want to hear that stupid song ever again. It brought back all the happy emotions that me and you had, and it made my heart and mind ease up for a few minutes. I was enjoying the song and then about mid-way through it, I felt this darkness taint the vision. I glanced out the window to make it look like I was totally not going to cry, but I have been since I got home. You won’t tell anyone, will you, dude? It's a secret right… just like the secret that you still keep about your wrestling figurines in a shoebox in the back of your closet.
I feel like I’m going a little crazy here.I can’t figure out what is wrong with me and even more importantly, why can't I stop crying. I swear I'm going soft and I'm not turning gay or anything,it's just that I genuinely miss you. I'm getting scared that I'll forget you; I know it's ridiculous because what we had can never be replaced. You won't forget about me, will you?I hope not because I don't want to forget about you. I needed to get some closure or something, earlier, after I started crying after that song. Because all I can picture is you singing obnoxiously to it. So, I dialed your number, and when I got through to the service, it said that your number was no longer in service. I mean, I can't understand what happened. I was just there the other day. I was able to call, and I'd hear your voicemail, but now I can't hear your voice anymore, and that upsets me more than the song did. I don't want to forget about you, and I don't want your existence to suddenly vanish because that’s what it feels like. Why did the phone company shut off your service? I should have recorded your voice. In all of the pictures I have taken of us I haven’t got a single video with your voice on tape. I'm so sorry man if I got a little too mushy; it just It feels weird that you're nowhere in my life anymore. I think I'll stop here; I don't think I can't write anymore, even if I wanted to… I’m sorry I have to cut it short, but I’ll write again soon, I think… I promise, or something.
Well, thats another entry guys; I hope you liked it. Please stick around for more.