A Million of Everything I Have

It was at this time that I was flying. This time was so far away, away, and further still. The very real feeling still exists, but the moment... the moment, agonizingly, will never exist again. How could I have let it slip? My fingers had a firm grip. My mind, firmer in its grasp, has held onto only fragments. These fragments are useless. It’s as if I am holding the pieces of a broken lamp. The lamp once shed light and had use. Now it is completely and wholly useless.

A memory is so precious, but the moment it was created in... that is exponentially more powerful. I can feel the sickness again. I can smell the flower again. That moment was so powerful. It leaks into me and it takes from me. Will I have anything left at the end?

The shower at the end of the hall. He sings in it, but he is not here. He left long ago. I can visit him plenty and we can smile and laugh. At the end, I will always leave. That shower is still hissing. The noise still rings in my ears from that song. I would give a million of everything I have to go back. I wish I could be angry at him again for playing that CD while I was trying to sleep. The Doors, played so incredibly loud. It was so incredibly profound. Not the music, but that moment. Those moments were so powerful.

Like the moments lying on my bed almost alone. My step-brother was always above me then, never in an idealistic manner. We had bunk beds. I would put the headphones on and slip away. Sometimes I would put my shoes on and slip away. God, the profound nature of my leaving. Every time I leave, something is left behind, even if it’s just for a few moments. Our whole lives are about leaving. We are born, and we leave the hospital. We reach a certain age, and we leave for school. We reach a certain season and we leave for camp. We leave for Disney Land. We leave for College. We get married, and we leave her too. When will it end? When we leave the ground?

When I was a child, I became worried. I knew that people forget. Naturally, I knew that eventually I would forget things. This led me to believe that I would eventually become somebody completely different. Literally, I would be born anew. This would leave my old self behind. I cried. This is no lie. This isn't some method of portraying myself as a prodigy of thought. I literally cried because I was afraid that one day I would forget that person who once was me. I told myself that day that I would always look back and remember that person. Damn, if that person isn't gone. Damn if he wasn't right. Damn, if I'm not somebody new. I'd give a million of everything I own to go back.

I can't shed a tear for him, because technically he never died. He lives in me. I sometimes ask myself why I feel different than everyone, and I think it’s him that makes me different. He is in there, and he doesn't want to leave. I don't want him to leave. How can I ever be happy if the person I want to be is part of me. I tell myself that I am him, with just a few additions. Like a Mr. Potato head, if you could put any more weight and various other features that don't come in the box onto him. Yea, I am still that kid. God, I hope I am still that kid. He knew everything. He could do anything. More importantly, he was always right. He wasn't brave, but he imagined what it would be like. Yea, he could have done anything.

I have nothing. Am I nothing? If I die, how many will cry? He used to think about that. He used to think, I better die soon while I have so many friends. One by one they have truly left. It is hard to make friends, but it is incredibly easy to lose them. The more you hold on to them, the harder they slip away. I have two best friends. One is my girlfriend and the other is my brother. I can visit him; I could even stay the night. I could maybe even move in with him for a while. Eventually, I would need to leave. Eventually, I would probably have to leave. 15 years ago, on Saturday, we would have argued over what cartoon to watch. I might have disobeyed my mother. When my step-dad got home he would have punished me. A million of everything I have for that punishment again.