Oh, boy, I loved you and your slimy heart right from the beginning.
I loved how your hair shone gold in even the lowest light and how your eyes turned black whenever someone did as much as mispronounce my name.
We were friends, good, good friends. Spent every day lying next to each other in the dry grass and getting stoned, letting our words spiral up into each other and mix into a haze. We would just try to make each other laugh, and if that meant saying schnauzer over and over, so be it.
You radiated summer from your oily skin. You were my heat, even if we never touched.
We would just lie there together, and sometimes I'd yell your name, your full name, and just giggle, and you'd tell me maybe I'd had enough and pry the joint out of my hands in such an act of caring.
And I fell for it.
You pretty much told me I was a minor character in your life, but I never realized it until later.
I loved how we used to drive around in your dad's old pickup truck, and we would never reach our desired destination, because you were always too scared to get into the exit lane.
And we just…were.
For years, that was our routine. Do nothing, get high, sit on the rusty old swingset in your backyard and laugh at each other.
And then you disappeared.
The day of your nineteenth birthday. I remember it like it was yesterday. I got you some new game and a few Green Day albums, and I went over to your house to give them to you.
Your mother answered the door, tears in her eyes and 'he's gone' on her lips.
He's gone.
It took a minute for that to sink in. I managed to sputter out the word 'dead' as a question, and your mom shook her head.
Just gone.
Your dad's truck was gone, and I knew you'd taken it. You loved that old piece of junk. I knew you were probably halfway to anywhere by now, screaming along to Metallica and forgetting I even existed.
That's when it hit me.
That's when I realized I was a minor character.
You left me without saying goodbye. I realized I wasn't the romantic interest, I wasn't the best friend or even the sidekick. I was just there.
You had become the star of my life, and I was an extra in yours.
But I was such an idiot. I thought I could change myself for you. I thought you would appreciate it if I followed you.
I thought I had some idea where you were. I drove for two hours before I found the beach we used to climb down to, the beach that served as the gateway to our sacred place. Our amphitheatre for senseless giggling, and your attempts at playing guitar.
I squeezed between the rocks, coating myself in damp orange dirt and starting to shiver as I made my way through the tiny passage to our theatre.
You weren't there.
But there was a note sitting on the rock that you declared as your throne. Just sitting there, waiting for me, and I wanted to run back out and just leave it lying there forever, because I didn't really want to know what you said about me.
I wanted to.
I didn't.
There was some magnetic force pulling me towards it, something paralyzing me. I couldn't leave. All I could do was take small and slow steps across the cavern.
I had to read it. It cut me as I unfolded it, but I didn't notice. I was numb with anticipation and cold.
And when I opened it, a picture dropped to the ground. I didn't recognize it at first, and I crouched to pick it up. It was just a picture of two human shadows under the shadow of a tree.
Our shadows. I've tried time and time again to think of what on earth you meant by the picture, but all I've come up with is that our time together didn't mean anything to you. I'm just a shadow fading in your memory.
You wrote in the note too, of course, and because I'm some sick masochist, I read it slowly, words starting to lose their meaning as I stared at them.
It was just two words. Just two words, but somehow they were the words that meant the most to me in the whole goddamn world.
'Schnauzer.
-Wyatt.'
A/N: All feedback is masively appreciated.