I didn't go to your funeral

and my excuse was something alone the lines of "they're just not my thing"

as if it was something reserved for other people

as if it were other people's thing

But if I'm being honest

I'm terrible at saying goodbye

you know this

you knew this.

Instead of texting goodnight or goodmorning

I had that habit of continuing yesterday's conversation

And for those rare times when I'd answer my phone

we'd talk for hours about nothing

about incompetent teachers

and parellel universes 

and the origin of the word "wedgy"- how to spell it-

pick out the inconsistencies of Spongebob and ponds underwater

about how innappropriate Adventure Time really was

and that picture of a naked lady in Finn and Jake's tree house home

we'd talk about our future

what colleges we wanted to go to

and what colleges our grades could pay for

and what lives our money could afford us

what our perfect spouse would be like-

we always ended up describing each other-

how you were supposed to have my children because

"I'm not ruining this body for little spawns that talk back"

all the social experiments we'd put them through

all the dumb shit we'd probably fight about

 

Nowadays, past tense hurts.

Turning my "will" to "would have"

my "we're going to" to "I remember when"

hypothetical statements are a bitch

cartoons aren't as funny

It doesn't bother me as much when Spongebob cries underwater

maybe he's just hurting that much

maybe he wants the world to see his pain

we used to overanalyze like hell

we used to...

Nights like this when I remember you randomly

I pretend you're somewhere across the country on vacation being fake

I pretend we've grown apart and we had some big fall out and that's why we don't talk

I pretend that I'm better off without you

Nights like this

when I contemplate calling your number

to tell you how shitty my day has been

because college has me feeling eternally poor and

because boys are stupid

and how I wish they were more like you

Nights like this

when I find my way to a bottle of Jack and I do just that

Nights like this when I call your phone

and noone answers

"We're sorry but this number is no longer in service."

Fuck bad connections.

You've been gone for one year now

and I'm still blaming my inability to reach you on a bad connection.