Sometimes I wonder

If you remember that night

Of his pilgrimage

And my sixth grade graduation

When we were yelling through the door

And I told you to go away

And you said you would kill yourself

And it would be my fault

Because I was immature and difficult

And I made you afraid,

 

And you walked away,

 

And I screamed

Because I didn't know what to do

And I thought I would lose you

And I screamed loud through the door

(the one Mom kicked a hole in when I was five)

And I begged you to stop.

 

And you came back

And you stood outside the door

And I heard you say,

And I'll never forget,

That you really would do it

If I told anyone about that night

 

So we finished the movie

And you said you were sorry

So I said that I was too

 

Because I was.

 

But you never said what you were sorry for

And neither did I

And neither of us asked

 

And I was afraid to ask

Whether you meant what you said

 

I held on for years

As I wondered if you meant it

 

And I thought it would be my fault if you did.

 

I cried in the shower that night.

I think you heard me.

 

And I think you half meant it,

And I think you were half trying to make me feel bad,

 

But I'll never know

Because I never asked

Because it's not polite to ask--

Family and church taught me that.

 

I cried myself to sleep that night

(And every night for a week--

At least)

 

And I still cried years later

Because I didn't understand

And I was angry

And I was sad

And I didn't understand

 

And I never told a soul until now

Because you said you would really do it if I did,

 

And I think I hated you a little for it

 

Because I loved you

(I still love you),

 

And because I idolized you

(Thank God--

If there is one--

That I no longer do),

 

And because you scared me

(You still do--

Though for different reasons

In the past few years)--

 

But I said you didn't scare me

Out of guilt

(But more out of fear),

But you told me I scared you.

 

And you didn't seem to care if it hurt me

Like I cared if I hurt you

 

So I never asked and you never told.

 

But I don't think you would have done it.

 

And that made me angry too

Because I believed everything you told me

 

And I think that, maybe (hopefully), I knew it wouldn't be my fault.

 

But I never asked

And you never told me.

 

I hated you for saying you would kill anyone,

But I hated you more for saying you would do it to yourself,

And I think I would have killed myself too if you had done it--

Which I’m not sure if you realized,

And it made me angry as Hell.

 

Hell,

I would have rathered you do it to me instead

 

And I hated you for making me wish you would kill me first

 

But I hated myself more

 

Because I loved you

(I still love you),

 

And I idolized you

(Thank God--

If there is one--

That I no longer do),

 

And I loved you

(I still love you)

And I idolized you

(Thank God--

If there is one--

That I no longer do)

More than anyone I have ever loved or idolized.

 

I wish you told me you wouldn't do it

 

And I wish you told me it wouldn't be my fault if you did

 

And I tried to make myself believe that was true

Because part of me knew it couldn't all be my fault

 

But I never asked

(And I never will)

 

And you never told me

(And you won’t,

Even if you remember).

 

Sometimes I think about it,

And I wonder if you ever thought twice about what you told me

 

But I always believed what you told me

 

And I think I'll always believe what you tell me

 

Because I still love you

 

And I’m still scared of losing you.

 

But I doubt that you ever thought twice

About that night.