Every Beat

It hurts.

I remember when I met you. I was only thirteen, a little kid thinking they were hot shit in middle school. I remember meeting you in the square and stealing your sucker because I was so confident and showing off in front of my girlfriend. I remember you stealing my phone to get my number, and that you wouldn’t stop texting until I texted you back and agreed to meet you again.

It hurts.

I remember once upon a time I thought I was only interested in girls, because that was the way it was supposed to be, that’s what everybody told me. But you showed me a new way, a way that wasn’t defined by gender or sex, and was all about love. I remember you were the one who helped show me the truth of my sexuality.

It hurts.

I remember raging about religion and how my views were so different- and you showed me the pentacle necklace you kept hidden and told me you could guide me down another path. The first ritual I participated in, I remember glowing with happy pride as I graduated to a real member of the coven and they all hugged me and I felt so at home.

It hurts.

I remember how they all treated me so differently than I was treated at home. I wasn’t the rebellious step-child anymore, I was a loved and respected member of the coven. They told me I had potential, innate talent, and I felt so special. They let me call down the Goddess when I was fourteen, and I’ll never forget that night.

It hurts.

I remember falling in love for the first time. You thought I was just a child, so much younger than you. When I got into high school things started to change. I remember our first kiss. I remember keeping it all secret from my parents because they would kill me for dating someone six years older- and the fact that you were a man was even worse.

It hurts.

I remember the first time I got to see your house. That beautiful witch’s garden out back. Spitting out my first taste of beer, and every one after until we found out I would only drink one kind. I remember you learning how to make those froofy girly drinks you so despised because I loved them, and you loved me.

It hurts.

I remember drunk nights that ended with us waking up together in the early hours of the morning, both of us swearing and running around to get me home before my parents woke up. And they all just laughed at us.

It hurts.

I remember when we met Daniel, and we both welcomed him with open arms. I remember us both falling fast for him, and suddenly it was three instead of two. I remember all of us spiraling downwards, the little rebel high school kid and my two gorgeous college boys.

It hurts.

I remember the first time you hit me. I knew you didn’t mean to, and god did you cry the next day. You promised to stop drinking, but you didn’t, and I didn’t, and Daniel didn’t. And no matter what happened, no matter how many times you sent me to school with bruised ribs, I couldn’t leave you; because you would cry and get my hair all wet with your tears, and I had to forgive you, because I loved you too much.

It hurts.

I remember when I tried to pull away. I remember you holding me when I cried when people broke my heart. Then you encouraged me to try again, never hating me for trying to find somebody else.

It hurts.

I remember when they all convinced me that you were poison in my life. I remember yelling and screaming and telling you I never wanted to see you again. I remember your broken expression, the tears in those pretty eyes that always swayed me.

It hurts.

I remember the call. Six months I had been clean of you, clean of the drinking and the cutting and all the stupid things I did. I made a vow to you, to stop it all, and you made the same vow to me. But only one of us followed through. I remember Daniel calling me to tell me you overdosed. I remember sitting and trying to act normal with my family that will never know you.

I remember another call. I remember the one from not long ago. I remember the one that broke my heart into tiny pieces and stomped them into dust. I remember hearing the thing I never wanted to hear in my life.

It hurts.

I know you’re gone. I know you would never have taken those drugs if I hadn’t left you behind, left you alone. I know that you loved me as much as I will always love you.

I know I broke my vow to you tonight, and dug out the razors I always keep taped in the frame of my box mattress. I’m very clean and sterile about it, but people will ask about the bandages.

But I don’t care, because being numb is better than crying for the part of my heart that died with you today.

I don’t care, because I know I will never be the same without you.

I don’t care, because with your death, a part of me has died. And I will miss you forever, knowing I could have saved you.

I will love you until the day I join you.

And it hurts.