one shots

shorty swing my way [46]

december 2004
saturday
5:32 pm

"You weren't lyin' when you said that those niggas with the light eyes are crazy," I gave a dry laugh.

Although a bittersweet smile coated my lips and nothing but the bitter cold was biting at my skin, I only felt warm inside. Granted, I was talking to a tombstone instead of my dearest friend, but nothing mattered. I held onto a bouquet of flowers that were out of season while my eyes traced the letters of her engraved name.

Lisa Rose Carmichael.
Heart of gold. Spirit of magic.
Love forever and always.

I remember like yesterday, standing in the cold as they lowered her casket. It was the nicest funeral I'd ever been to. Her family really did her justice. The service was amazing, and she looked like an angel as she lied in the glossy, wooden box. I remember how soft she looked, and I remember wondering how she glowed even in the afterlife. I remember admiring how good blonde looked on her— it was a new color after all. I remember crying for weeks and reliving the day she died in my dreams for months. I remember driving myself crazy with all the things I never got to say to her. I remember giving into DeAndré's warm and comforting embrace while he rocked me back to sleep from my nightmares.

"I miss you a lot, Muffin," I admitted softly. "I've never really said that out loud, but I do."

I allowed myself to finally loosen my grip on the plants I had and place them in the little bouquet holder that was next to the grave. "I know you don't really like flowers, but I brought some anyway because I didn't want to just leave a nug of weed in a cemetery," I chuckled quietly, my breath being seen in the form of fog.

"I just. . . wanna' tell you that you were right, and I should've listened to you. I shouldn't have put you on the back burner either. I should've been there for you, and I'm sorry that I wasn't," I could feel the familiar sensation of rising tears but I managed not to choke on them. "You were and still are the best friend I've ever had, and I'm sorry that I took you for granted."

I sniffled, wiping the tears that had fallen with my sleeve.

"And I'm sorry for not taking you serious when you wanted to make us a thing. I told you that I didn't want to diminish our friendship, but in reality, I was scared of coming out of the closet. . . We both were, but you were always better at facing your fears than me. . . I know that, that stage of our relationship was really short-lived and we moved past it like it never happened, but. . . if I could go back in time. . ." I shook my head, not even bothering to finish my thought.

"You were the best thing that's ever happened to me. You never made me feel ashamed or less-than or like I had to keep up a façade with you. . . You were my soulmate, Lisa," I released a shaky sigh.

I had never admitted that out loud. I thought about it though, and that very thought was what kept me up night after night, years ago. I knew that my love was more than that of a best friend. I knew it from the first time we held hands. I knew that we were made for each other after we made love for the first time. Yet, when she brought up the thought of being girlfriends, I froze in place. My heart had melted into gooey, messy matter, but the rest of my being was held in place with freezing terror. I didn't want to fuck up our friendship— as you can see, my luck with love is nonexistent so turning our friendship into more wouldn't have worked out anyway, given my track record— but I surely didn't want to make the possibility of being attracted to women more real. She understood me on every level, and this was no exception. She wrote that entire portion of our history together off as just some silly thing we got caught up in and would've never worked if we made it into something serious.