Dedicated to my love, to the only boy I've ever loved. Dedicated to Luigi.

Heartbeats

(I used to see my future looking into your eyes.)

I shake and scream. I cry and whisper. I can barely see. I can hardly breathe. I don't talk. I don't care. I don't do anything. I don't live. I wander in my now empty life with numbness. You were my inspiration. You were the music I heard. Now, the music has stopped. The melody is redundant. The words are meaningless. The pain is never understood. My heart has stopped. My blood has cooled. My will is gone.

I remember the first time I saw you. God, you were a jerk. You were arrogant and selfish. You cared about yourself and no one else. I hated you – supposedly. I swore to my friends you were an ass and I would never talk to you. But, they would catch me looking at you in the Mess Hall. God, your eyes were so piercing and beautiful. Your skin – the most beautiful color. You barely looked my way though. You were looking for the one, not knowing it me all along.

Then, I met you – officially. You were still cocky and an ass, but there was something about you that shone through. Sometimes, when you let your guard down, I saw the pain behind your eyes. I noticed you fumbled over your words a bit and bite your lip all the time. You look to my face intensely every time you made a stupid joke, hoping I would laugh. I always did. You suddenly were smiling at me and giving me flirtatious looks. You invited me out – albeit to the lake, but still. You made cute faces and told me your insecurities.

After that, you found out my flaws as well, but not as nicely. I lied to you. I pretended to be something I wasn't, and it backfired on me. It hurt you. I never wanted that. I wanted you to look at me with happy eyes forever. I wanted you to fall in love with me. I wanted you to be that person! The person I could go to and tell anything. The person who could come to me at anytime. The person I could hug and kiss with any problems. I wanted you.

And I blew it for a while. You told me a while back that you tried to forget me and focus on finding the one again. It was hard for me to. I tried to live my life, but I felt horrible. Those weeks were painful to me then, but I didn't really know what pain was. I thought the midnight cry with ice cream you stole from the kitchen was pain. It wasn't. What I feel now… yeah, that's pain.

Then randomly, you realized I was the one and you forgave me. I was so happy and thankful. My heartbeat was going so fast and my palms were so sweaty. I fell back in love with you the moment you turned back to me. Your eyes were still as piercing as before. Your skin was just as perfect. This time however, I had you and I wasn't going to let go. And we worked together. I have always been an honest person, so I told you to drop the cocky act. You did. Thank you, by the way.

My heart belongs to you. I haven't been able to get out of bed in the last week. I haven't been able to move. My mom tells me not to bottle it in, but to write songs or anything. The comments online and in the magazines are all sad and empathic, but I can't read them. They try to understand, but no one does. I bet if you were still here, you would. We just clicked, you know? After several months of dating, you knew me better than I knew myself.

I'm not going to lie or be humble and try to pretend that I don't know why you loved me. I knew why. I understood just as well as you did. I listened and I cared. I was always there for you, even when it seemed no one else was. Everyone always rolled their eyes at you, since you are practically perfect. You look like perfection and you almost act perfect, but you aren't. Weirdly, you were glad I understood that. I didn't put pressure on you.

You still tried to please everyone. It was your idea to go that party that night. You said that many people were going to be there. You said that no adults would be there. You said we could have a fun party. You said it would be great. You said it would be life changing for me. It was.

I think it was the second I walked in that I realized we should not have been there. It took you about half a minute. I saw the look in your eye as the kid offered you a beer. You looked disgusted. I laughed. You looked at me, making a face. Why are we here again? You asked telepathically. I gave you a pointed look. It was your idea, I answered. You shrugged and we tried to mingle for thirty minutes, until we realized this was a way too out of control party for a bunch of straight edges like us.

So we left in your car. I loved your car. Now, I hate it. I wanted ice cream because I was hungry. So, you decided to take me to Cold-Stone because you know I love that place. You looked at me and smiled. I rolled my eyes at you. Looking back, I wish I would have told you thanks for thinking of me. Looking back, I wish I would I have told you I love you. Looking back, I wish I would have told you let's go home. But I didn't.

We were listening to my iPod as we drove. I was punishing you for making us go to that crappy party. You hated my music, calling it depressing and boring. You like crazy and hyper. The song had just gone from "White Horse" by Taylor to "Irvine" by Kelly. That was one of my favorite underappreciated sad songs. The lyrics have always hit me hard. "Are you there? Are you watching me as I lay here on this floor?"

I think it was that line when the car hit us. The glass went everywhere. I felt the metal of my car door slam against my leg. I felt your arm hit my body hard. I felt the lights and the screams and the sounds. I felt my heartbeat go wild. I didn't feel it when you hit your head against the window, but God, I feel it now.

At the hospital, it was difficult, but you were alive. You were in a coma, but you were alive. You were barely awake, but you were alive. I buried myself in writing and work, coming out with the saddest material I have ever released as you fought for your life. When you woke up, you had to learn how to talk again and how to walk and how to sing and how to smile, but you were alive. My best friend took care of me while tried to take care of you. It was going to be okay.

It was going to be okay.

It was going to be okay.

What happened?

The man who hit us was drunk. He was not hurt, but he is going to jail for two years. Two years! While you, the innocent one, have to gain back a whole life. You tried so hard, and pretty soon you were mostly back to normal. We were us again. You were there for me and I was there for you. We listened to music and read books and lived. Then, it changed.

Your heartbeat was irregular. The doctors didn't know why. They operated on you. They tore you opened. They supposedly fixed you. They said they fixed you. They didn't. Your heartbeat was still irregular. We used to joke and say that it was weird because half of it was with me. You were always such a sap. The thing is half of my heart is still with you, and I can't get it back. It is gone and dead. It is finished and dark.

You died. You had a heart attack. You were eighteen. You were supposed to do more. You were supposed to finish changing the world. You were supposed to be mine forever. I was supposed to marry you. I was supposed to have your children. I was supposed to be yours. And now, you're gone. Just like that. No warning. No nothing. Just gone.

"I'm sorry for your lost." I know. What people don't understand is that "my lost" is more than just him. I lost myself. I lost my music. I lost my will. I lost everything. Nothing means anything anymore. Darkness is welcomed. Tears are involuntary. My phone has been shut off. My email is overflowing. But I'm gone with you.

It was going to be okay. What happened? Why did you leave me? What did I do God? Why did this happen? Why aren't you here with me? Don't you realize I need you? Don't you realize you are everything to me?

I love you. I need you.

"Are you there? Are you watching me as I lay here on this floor?"