If only

There was a time when we were good friends.  Best of friends in fact.  You were the one I would see first in a crowd.  The connection felt amazing.  People said you were tough and unable to connect, but I guess they couldn't see the heart that was always on your sleeve.  Your skin wasn't perfect, your voice was too low, your laugh borderline obnoxious, but it all added up to give me a feeling.

Not sure what this feeling is still.  It stood somewhere between talking to a family member who I haven't seen in months and hearing my soon to be favorite song for the first time.  Except it didn't take months, and it wasn't just the first time.  Over and over you captivated my mind and I enjoyed every second, even when those seconds detracted from my time with my eyes shut at night.

I remember your hands and the way they were in the fall.  When they were cold and clingy, and refused to lay alone.  When they would stroke through my hair and touch my face at any chance they got.  When they would pull on my shirt ever so slighty during a hug, as though I was someone who you wanted to stay with longer.  They could get into my phone because I didn't mind you knowing the most important day in my life.

I remember your cheeks in the street lights.  Mainly because we would go on walks in the cold, and they became the most beautiful shade of red.  I never told you I didn't like walks that much, but they were something you enjoyed, and watching that gave me that feeling of almost being at that concert we've waited so long to see.  I wish I had known what it was like to be with you during the summer.

I realized that you were the one I cared for the most.

If only I had the kind of bravery you have.  The ability to not give a damn what our parents said.  To casually intertwine fingers down the hallway or say "I love You" in the least demanding way.  To tell me my flaws and know that I wouldn't be offended since I knew that you didn't hate them.  To be willing to skip church to help me in my worst times, even if it meant your parents getting angry.  The bravery to tell me that you would share names with someone famous if you had my last name.

I'm sorry that I said that I didn't love you anymore because that was a lie.  I still love you like I love the weather right after the rain stops.  I just wasn't brave enough to say I cared so much that I couldn't drag you down with me.  We're still friends, but I've made a wall that is now unbreakable, even though this time it's me who wants to tear it down instead of you.