He's been sitting in the same spot for over 24 hours. He hasn't slept, hasn't eaten, hasn't done anything except stare out at nothing. Time doesn’t really mean anything at the moment, or maybe he just doesn’t want it to. He’s created a bubble around himself, around his mind…   his heart. His phone died some time ago and for that he’s grateful. He was getting tired of listening to it vibrate constantly. 

Everything seemed to shut down inside of him and numb was no longer just a feeling he’d read about but had never been able to imagine what that could even begin to feel like…     Numb was his reality. He tried to put thoughts together, sort through them one by one, but the memories that came with them forced a wall up once again and he was back to the endless nothing. 

He knew his mother was still in the house somewhere, probably in his room just waiting for her son to come out of the room he’d locked himself into. His own private solitude. 

He’d heard them talking, his friends, family…  all attempting to coax him from hiding, but no.  He belonged right here on this floor, in this corner…  surrounded by everything that was him. 

It's been almost two days since he got the news and he hasn’t shed a single tear.

His body is uncomfortable, pained at the unchanging position, but still he doesn't move. He can't.

___

The three friends sat around Mitch’s room, the silence uncomfortable and awkward, but none of them knew how to break it.

“I had so much I didn’t tell her.” Mitch finally found the will to speak, looking impossibly tiny in his too big funeral clothes.

“I know, but I’d like to think she knows, even if you didn’t tell her.” Kirstie tried to comfort her friend, but she hadn’t known Ava the way Mitch had and she hadn’t really lost anyone that close to her before so she wasn’t exactly equipped for this kind of loss. 

Mitch just leaned into Scott who was always awkward when it came to deep conversation anyway, well as deep as 13 & 14 year olds could be. Ava had been his best friend since they were 8 and losing her to something as stupid as her dad running a stop sign just felt… unfair. He felt like he needed to do something… anything. Too much was left unsaid, unfinished.

“I just wish there was a way to talk to her again. Tell her I love her, that I’ll miss her. If I… if something ever happens to me, I want you both to know I love you.”

“Don’t talk like that!”   Kirstie protested, but Scott had other ideas.

“Wait, I might have an idea." 

All eyes turned to the blonde.

___

It’s still there…  right in front of him,  dark blue like the night sky and full of things he isn’t ready to face. Maybe if he just leaves it there, closed and harmless and just sitting in the same spot forever then maybe things will change. Maybe it’ll all just turn out to be a nightmare induced by bad sushi or mixing the right variety of spirits.

Maybe. 

He can hear a knock, someone calling out to him.  It’s Kirstie this time. She sounds frantic, muffled voice begging for a response. He wants to laugh at her, tell her she’s being ridiculous and that everything is just fine…   but something has stolen his voice and he isn’t sure that he’ll ever get it back..   maybe he doesn’t want it back. All of the words, the songs, the music…  none of it matters, not if this is his new reality.   

This…   here…   the nothing. 

This is easier.

He wants to bask in the empty, or maybe fill the blank space with darkness so he can at least feel whole again. He wonders what the world would be like if this lie were truth. How many lives affected, how many hearts would be broken by the loss of such a bright inner light. 

He wants to stay away, to leave it… to remain numb…    but the night sky calls to him even louder now. It won’t be ignored much longer, but he will fight as long as he can. He will sit, he will chase the memories and run from the voices.

He will wake from this nightmare.

Time. All he needs is more time.

___

“Did you write yours?” Scott inquired as he wheeled his suitcase into the living room.

“Write what? Oh! Shit, I almost forgot. Did you write yours?” Mitch looked up from his blanket burrito on the couch.

“Yeah, last night.”

“I’ll wait until I’m in Texas to do it. I gotta think what I want to put this year.”

“You always have the hardest time.” Scott laughed that melodic laughter and jumped on his best friend squishing him into his cocoon.

“Whhhhyyyyyy” Mitch whined as Scott hugged him tight.

“We’re going to be apart forevvvvvveeer.”

“We will literally be a couple of miles away from each other and its only for a few days. The world isn’t going to end.”

“But I’ll missss youuuuu” The big blonde child looked at him with a super frown accentuated with a pouty lip. 

“You’re also going to miss your plane if you don’t get your ass moving.”

“You’re going to miss me too. Say it.”

Mitch just rolled his eyes.

“Sayyyy it.” Scott had that gleam in his eyes and he knew what was coming.

He barely had time to gasp as Scott’s fingers managed to tickle him even through the blanket and they both fell over and off of the couch in a fit of laughter that continued on long after they’d separated, fueled only by each other. 

“Fine, fine I’ll miss you.” Mitch gasped out between trying to catch his breath and still continued giggles. 

“And you’ll facetime every day”

“You’re so needdddy.”

“Every.day!.”

“Alright, alright … every day. Now go!” He grinned but jerked back as Scott pretended to go for his waist again. He held up a finger as warning. "I will kick your ass, I swear."

Scott stood, quiet giggles still escaping intermittently as he helped Mitch to his feet. The big bear hugged him tight against his chest one last time and placed a sloppy kiss on his forehead, much to the brunette’s chagrin. “Love you!” Scott called out before finally wheeling his suitcase towards the door.

“Love you too babe!”  Mitch aimed an exaggerated wink his way and they both laughed out one last goodbye before the door closed.

______

His lips feel like cracked clay in the desert and they stick together, peeling away from one another as he opens his mouth… not to speak… not to do anything really, except exhale. 

It’s calling to him again and he’s suddenly overcome by fear. He feels like his throat is full of jagged glass and he wraps both hands around his neck to try and somehow breathe, but its just too much.

It’s calling his name… and he wants to throw things at it, or maybe toss it out the window and let its contents scatter in the wind or maybe shatter against the concrete below.

After all, this is just a nightmare, what could it hurt. 

But that voice…  

He knows … he knows that voice and he knows what’s inside.

He squeezes… contracting his fingers around his neck until his head feels like it might pop from the pressure, but suddenly the pull is too strong and he’s scrambling on weak hands and knees closer to the thing he’s most afraid of.

He never wanted to see this…  but here he is.

He touches the lid, but his fingers recoil as if expecting, or more hoping that it would disappear and confirm his suspicions that this is all indeed nothing more than a figment, but its solid and cold and does nothing but sit there and mock him with its presence.

Fingers slide along the edge and his chest tightens with fear. He wants to run again, to crawl back to his corner and stare for awhile longer, prolong the in between, but that voice…  his voice moves his hand before he can even think of the action.

He closes his eyes as the lid is removed and tossed aside.

He tells himself that its empty, that this isn’t real and the real box is still tucked safely in its hiding place where it’s always been.

It’s all a lie.

He keeps telling himself.

____

“Now what do we do?” Kirstie put the lid on her bright purple box, decorated with neon pink and black accents and her name in gorgeous cursive.

“We give them to our parents to keep. That way if anything happens they’ll have them and will know what to do with them.” Scott closed his and beat out an easy rhythm on the sides, using it as a drum.

“We should probably write instructions on the side of the box.” Mitch added. “What if something happens to our parents too and someone else finds it.”

“Good thinking. Morbid, but a good idea.” Scott nodded and they set about coming up with instructions.

“So when are we going to put new stuff in the box?” Kirstie asked as she tried to keep her sentences in a straight line, permanent marker staining the side of her hand.

“Maybe Christmas? It’s easy to remember and we’ll all be with our parents even when we’re older.” Scott reasoned. 

“And when we’re older and less nosey we can keep the boxes ourselves.” Kristie grinned.

“Like THAT’ll ever happen.” Mitch rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Hey!” She threw the, thankfully capped, marker at her friend and they all laughed, despite the reason they were doing what they were doing.

“Alright, so we make a pact, every Christmas we write letters to each other and put them there in our boxes. That way if something ever happens to one of us then nothing will be left unsaid.” Scott smiled and stuck out his hand.

“And if we want to put things in when it isn’t Christmas that’s ok too, right?” Mitch looked up at him, eyes still a  bit swollen from all of the tears he’d shed in the past few days.

“Of course.” Scott gave him a reassuring smile and soon Mitch’s hand lay on top of his own. Kirstie’s followed immediately afterward.

“Friends forever?”

They all laughed. “Friends forever.”

_______

He counts to just over a hundred before he can open his eyes and when he finally manages to he wants to put the lid right back on the box and get as far away from it as possible. 

So many colored envelopes and little boxes with names on them that he doesn’t even want to try and count. He has the immediate urge to set fire to it, destroy it, but instead he goes about carefully pulling each item out and organizing them into piles. Once the box is empty he puts Kirstie’s much smaller group back into the box and places the lid gently back into place and pushes it away. 

There are dates and numbers on each envelope and item and he wastes more time putting them in order. Even when it’s done and all spread out before him he still doesn’t believe it. It’s not real and this isn’t going to prove anything.

Time ticks by and he tries to will it all away. If he just keeps putting it off it will change. 

He hears footsteps, voices outside the door again. None of that matters.  Nothing matters.

He waits, struggles against the pull once again, a desperate tug of war that he eventually loses and the bright red envelope with his name and the #1 scrawled messily across the front somehow finds its way into his hands.

He feels the first ragged breath escape him, the first stutter of his heart and he hasn’t even opened it. His hands are less than steady as he slips his finger between paper and unseals it. He realizes he’s trembling as he unfolds the single sheet of paper and lets his eyes take in the words he doesn't want to see.

Dear Mitch 

You’re my best friend and I don’t know what I would ever do without you. I know you’re sad right now, I mean as I’m writing this you’re sad, but probably as you’re reading it too. If you’re reading this it means I’m dead. Which is kind of weird to think about. I hope I went in a cool way, like skydiving or getting eaten by lions on safari.  Something people will talk about.

I’m trying to think of things I haven’t told you, but really I tell you everything. Wait that’s not true. I may have stolen one of your pokemon cards. I wasn’t sure if it was mine or yours so I just took it without asking. I will probably give it back though now that I’m thinking about it. Sorry about that.

Well I just wanted to let you know that you’re my best friend in the entire world and there is no one else i’d rather make up stupid offkey songs with.

Not to be stupid, but I really do hope we’re friends forever.  No, we will be. I know it.

Your BFF

Scooter.

It was strange to read the words, but still easy to remain detached. Those words were from so long ago, and while they had been close way back then, it was nothing compared to now. The little nuances chipped away at his bubble, the small memories…

No. Focus. 

He remains a being of stone as he continues to push forward, going through and opening each item… the pokemon card he’d returned, more letters and tiny gifts, the spongebob and cat figurines.  The further he delves the more he begins to crumble, pieces falling and caving in. He fights it again but knows the threads holding him together aren’t able to for much longer.

He can tell when he unfolds it that this one is different. Its thicker than the others, the writing messier, more honest.

He barely gets one look at the first line and has to close his eyes to try and force it away, the heart that had stopped inside of him beating just once as a painful warning.

He shakes his head, the voice calling even louder now. He can’t do it. He can't.

He tried… he really tried but he just... can’t do this.

The voice pleads with him the pull drawing him in and his eyes open and he forces them to move over paper.

Its not Christmas yet, but I can’t keep this to myself anymore. 

This is is supposed to be full of things we always want to, but can never say. I honestly don’t know why I can’t, why I’m so afraid… but I can’t take this with me. I want you to know how much you mean to me. I love you so so much that you just can’t even realize.

You were so upset today and when you climbed into my bed, all teary eyed and so tiny I felt like my heart was going to beat right out of my chest. You’re all I see. You’re in everything I do, the inspiration for every song, the base of every idea. This, Pentatonix, The Sing-Off, I did it all for you. It’s all for you and you can’t even see it.

I know I’m a walking cliche,  falling in love with my best friend, but naturally it’s easy to fall in love with your best friend right?

I love you.

When it started? I’m honestly not even sure to tell you the truth.

Love is like that y’know? It slowly creeps up … hiding beneath hugs and stares and seemingly non-deliberate touches… and then suddenly…BOOM there it is and it’s so obvious that you’re not sure how you ever missed it in the first place.

But why not with my best friend? Best friends know everything about each other. Best friends don’t judge or taunt or laugh when you’re weak. You’re the one I feel most comfortable around. So why can’t I love my best friend?

I wish it were that simple. I wish things were different. I find myself wishing for a lot of things lately, but mostly… I just wish for you.

I don’t know exactly how it happened, maybe just a build up of everything that is so innately you.  Maybe it’s been like this forever and I’m just now realizing.

You’ve seen me at my best, always standing right there on the sidelines...watching..letting me know with just your eyes that you’re proud of me. That’s all I’ve ever needed. 

You’ve seen me at my worst when I’m weak and on my knees with tears cascading down my cheeks.

You’ve seen me when I’m angry and throwing the nearest breakable thing at the wall in a stupid temper tantrum.

You’ve  seen me at 2:30 in the morning when you’ve had to come get me because I’m drunk beyond comprehension and also the morning after when I’m completely wrecked.  You’ve seen every side of me… and you’re still here. You never leave me no matter what.

You’re always the one to wrap me in your arms and hold me close as I finally let go of tears i pretend i’m too strong to cry. 

You told me once that I lay my heart out for everyone when I sing and that the people that are fortunate to be in my presence should feel privileged…because you do every single time. It was so honest and I could see it there in your eyes that you really and truly meant every word. Then again, you always mean every word that comes out of your mouth.

But I wonder ... if that’s true, if I lay my heart out for everyone to see, does that mean you know the name branded on my heart? Do you know the truth of my feelings?

How could you not,  Mitch? I try not to push you, or smother or project my feelings onto you...but I can’t help myself. You’re endgame for me and I know I can never tell you because I know that’s not what you want.

How can I tell you when I know what would happen? I’d rather have pieces of you than nothing at all.

I really hope I’m wrong and by the time you read this we’ve lived a full life together, held tight in each other’s arms. I hope I found courage and got to enjoy you the way I’ve always wanted.

I hope.

But if you’re reading this, and I’m really gone…  I want you to be the strong, beautiful man you’ve always been. You’ve braved so many scary things and bulldozed through them with more determination in your tiny body than anyone else I’ve ever seen. Miss me, don’t forget me, cry for me…

Please fall apart just a little bit… just once for me.

But know that I’m not really gone. I’ll still be around watching quietly from afar, just like always… so nothing will really change.

So have your moment, be sad and weak and let yourself lean on others because eventually you will be ok again.

I’m trying to imagine it the other way around and how I would ever be able to survive or even breathe again if I lost you and I’m a sobbing mess. It’s the beginning of Up! all over again. I hope that we have a love like that one day, but I don’t want you to turn into that old man… sour and distant and angry.  

Be strong… I promise I will help from wherever I am.

It’s always been about you, and it will always continue to be about you. You … my best friend… the man I love.. 

Life isn’t always fair, but I can hope.

No matter how long its been, whether we’re friends or maybe even lovers, my heart will always be yours here and wherever comes next. 

Cry for me but only for a little while. Be happy, show me that dimpled smile I fall even more in love with every time I see it.

Give me something to smile at.  I know that no matter what happens we will always find one another. We will meet again. I'll be waiting. 

I have a smile
Stretched from ear to ear
To see you walking down the road
We meet at the lights
I stare for a while
The world around us disappears
It's just you and me
On my island of hope
Breath between us could be miles
Let me surround you
My sea to your shore
Let me be the calm you seek

By the time he’s done the first tears he’s dared to cry have come and gone and his heart has shattered into billions of pieces. He’s distorted already tear blurred ink and his fingers are holding the paper so hard its crinkled, ripping and folding in on itself, which is only fitting since that’s exactly what’s happening inside of him.

It all comes down on him at once… all of the words he didn’t say, the things that could have been…    every smile and touch he took for granted.

His breath sputters out of him in ugly, harsh gasps and puffs. This… these words…   those hands and those sparkling blue eyes that always seemed to find him no matter where he was…     all gone.  

No more late night talks about nothing and everything…  no more hugs,.. no more unspoken conversations…   no more tickling…

He curls in on himself, eyes wide and manic as reality pierces through him and he's suddenly overwhelmed and can’t take it. He grips his own shirt in his fingers as if it can help him get ahold of everything… or maybe to just try and destroy something the way his heart is being shredded. He can’t even find his way out of the darkness and he drops to his side, mouth open in a silent wail of grief. He's slowly suffocating.

No more songs..  no more crawling into his bed when he just needed to feel safe, loved.

No more I love yous 

no more….

All of those dreams of their future together, the words he always tried to say but could never find the courage to. 

It all means nothing now.

He claws at the carpet, slams his fist into it, angry and demented. His brain is up and down and everywhere at the same time. He hasn’t finished the letters, but he can’t bring himself to, not now, not yet.

He wants to hold on to this and these words and these pieces of a heart he’d always craved and loved and held tight to. 

Words.  

He gets to his feet, spinning in a circle as he tries to think of something except the emptiness and the man who isn’t there to catch him. 

He presses the back of his hand to his mouth and bites into it, needing something to try and ground him, but the pain is nothing… its nothing to this loss he’s trying to figure out how to survive. 

He flings open the nightstand drawer and searches until he finds it… a pen. He sees Scott’s songbook but right now it’s a black widow ready to consume him and he can’t even look at it.

He tugs at his hair and grabs for paper and ends up using the back of Scott’s letter.

He doesn’t think …

just writes..and hopes that somewhere ... he understands.

Cover my eyes
Cover my ears
Tell me these words are a lie
It can't be true
That I'm losing you
The sun cannot fall from the sky

Stop every clock
The stars are in shock
The river won’t run to the sea
I won't let you fly
I won't say goodbye
I won't let you slip away from me 

Can you hear heaven cry
The tears of an angel 

So hold on
Be strong
Everyday hope will grow
I'm here, don't you fear
Little one don't let go

Cover my eyes
Cover my ears
Tell me these words are a lie

_________

I don't know what this is ... 

Too much of a bad thing I guess... 

Lyrics aren't by me - the first belong to Sarah McLachlan - I Love You
The second belong to RyanDan - Tears of an Angel (the attached video and also what I listened to when writing this)