What it Means to Have a Best Friend

It was 8th grade when I first met you.

I was alone.

Cuts on your arms and demons in my head.

Our worlds collided

And somehow, us two, who were destined to self-destruct, were saved.

It was almost like a movie.

Don’t you remember that time when you made that snarky comment, just barely under your breath?

And for some reason it hit me in just the right spot

And suddenly

I couldn’t breathe

I was laughing despite the joke was shit

And you got that weird look on your face

But quickly it was replaced with a smile

Which promptly left as you started to laugh

We laughed, and laughed, and laughed

Until tears were streaming down our faces and our sides hurt.

I remember that moment clearly

Because for the first time

In a long time

I had felt happy.

And you were the reason why; maybe this is what it means to have a best friend.

 

10th grade

 

Do you remember the time when you first had your heart broken?

And we sat and watched episodes of 'Friends'

And talked about how boys are trash

You asked me what I saw in you,

I told you that I saw a best friend,

But that I also saw my world, my happiness, and my reason to keep breathing.

And you cried;

Maybe this is what it means to have a best friend.

 

12th grade

 

Do you remember the time you got accepted to that college so far away?

And how it had been your dream to study there someday

Do you remember how I had thrown that party for you?

And you cried

Well, I cried too.

Not at the party

Not as you left

But as I sat in my bed, knowing that I was alone again.

Did you ever stop to think about us?

I don’t mean to be selfish

But when you left

You took half my heart with you;

I love you in a language that I don’t fully understand,

In words I haven’t found enough power to lift out of my chest,

You were always at the center of my hurricane,

The calm in my storm.

And right now

What am I supposed to do?!

When you only taught me to survive with you;

You’ve left me drowning.

 

3 months later

 

And I get a phone call

It’s your mother

Crying, words slurred

And my heart is racing

You’re in the hospital

Three dead, one surviving

It’s you

But as I’m about to breathe a sigh of relief

She says you’re critical

And might not make it

So, as I try to hold the tsunami tides in my eyes

I have to ask just one more question,

Is this what it means to have a best friend?

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741