Beautiful Mess

we tore our dresses and stained our shirts, but it's nice today. oh the way it was so worth it.

Dear Patrick

I don’t think you have forgotten me. I don’t think you ever forgot me. so I want to apologize for all the times I tried so hard to forget you.

You never lied to me that I can remember. You tell me the truth even when you know I might not like it. so I want to apologize for all the times I doubted your honesty.

You were always kind to me. Even in our arguments, you never failed to give me some kind of reassurance your anger wouldn’t last. So I want to apologize for not giving you the same reassurance,for all the times I lashed out for what might seem like no reason, and all the times I was too stubborn to say sorry.

There are probably a lot of other things I screwed up when it came to you and I should apologize for those too, but there are things I will never apologize for.

I am not sorry that I could tell you were hurting that night we talked outside sitting on the rocks, because who knows if we would have become friends or not.

I am not sorry that you trust me with your fears and insecurities because that says there is something to our friendship. Don’t worry. They are in a safe place. somewhere between my soul and my heart.

I am not sorry that I painted your rock, because I would have never gotten back into my artwork, I would have never gotten that fighting spark back, I would have never learned that my work is worth something.

I am not sorry that I told you exactly what I think about you because you needed to hear it. Because you wouldn’t have ever guessed how beautiful of a person you are. Because it still baffles me that you couldn’t see it. if you still can’t see it, then let me remind you.

I am not sorry that we sat at the English fountain and talked about life and music. Because philosophical or not, those talks got me through a lot. Because philosophical or not, I felt at peace the most when I was lying under the trees staring at the sky with you.

I am not sorry that we would hang out late at night at the same fountain and talk about death and fear. Because finally telling someone that I think about death nearly everyday was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. Because being there for you made me feel like I was good for something. Because I care about you, and  the fact you would listen to my drabbles and say they weren’t that crazy meant a lot to me. Because you cared about me once and whether or not that has changed, I will never forget it.

I am not sorry that I called you when I was upset. because you know how to handle my tears. because you somehow knew what to say to cheer me up. because you dropped everything and came to find me.

I am not sorry that you came to church with me. Because you needed it. because it was time spent with you. because I needed it as much as you did. because you held my hand during prayer and tightened your grip ever so slightly in the middle of the Our Father. Maybe you didn’t notice but I did.

I am not sorry I met you. Because you give me memories I would never want to part with. Because you are incredible even if you don’t know it. because you share your blanket when it’s cold outside. because you always give me that crooked grin. because you are just as stubborn as I am if not more. Because you can make me laugh. Because you actually care what I am doing with my life. Because I can say ‘and vice versa’ to any of this paragraph’s statements.

I guess this is the part where I tell you how much I miss you.

well, let me put it this way:

When I hear a longboard coming close, I turn about looking for you.

when I see an abandoned FUZE bottle on ”the Ledge” I wonder if you left it there even though that isn’t possible.

whenever I pick up a paintbrush I remember the rock, the masterpiece of a rock we lost to Delta Chi. I remember that you reminded me how happy art made me.

whenever I see the ocean I think of how small I am, and then I think of you. If its in a picture, I think of how much you would love that view. If its real and I sit there with sand between my toes and the sea breeze flowing through my hair, I can’t help but think of how much I’d love for you to be there with me.

when I’m upset, I walk to the English fountain, go to the big book, and lie down. I stare at the sky, and I talk to you about life and music even though you aren’t really there. even so, I do start to feel a little better.

As cliche as it sounds, I miss you more than mere words can say, because nothing can express this twisting in my chest that I feel when the time of our reuniting is even further delayed.

But until then I should tell you I still care for you, and even through our ups and downs that has never changed.

I thought you should know



  1. quietgirlspeaking posted this