You and I were friends

You and I were eleven when we met.

We never saw each other before, because you went to the same elementary school like everyone else and I in another one.

But as I looked behind me in class I saw you and I immediately wished to be your friend.

So during lunch I tried to bring up my confidence, gathering it and using it for you.

"Hello", I said.

"Hello", you answered, looking me in the eyes, something none of the other kids did.

I can't remember who of us asked to sit beside each other, the next thing I know is that I sit giggling with you eating the apple you gave me.

"By the way, my name's Charlotte", I said as we walked home.

"I'm Josephine, but my friends call me Josie", you said. "What do your friends call you?"

I didn't answered. Back then, I didn't knew what you meant because I had no friends to call me.

You, more empathic than I ever will, didn't said a thing. Didn't belittled me, didn't left on the spot.

As we reached your house, one with four windows and living flowers in the front yard, sadness filled my heart. Even at eleven I knew that this meant, that we couldn't be friends.

"Goodbye, Josephine", I said, preparing myself to never sit beside you during lunch again.

"See ya tomorrow, Lotte!", you said, leaving me behind, confused and happy at the same time.

You and I were twelve when we started smoking.

It was in the cottage of your aunt Caroline, the one you sometimes called mom. You remember, the one with ginger hair and hippy clothes?

Yeah, this one.

Your parents brought you to her every summer vacation and I, the good friend I am, always came with you.

It's not like my parents noticed that I wasn't home.

During this summer, Aunt Caroline decided that we're old enough to smoke.

"Just the normal stuff", she said, while smoking 'the special grass'. "T's not like anyone died of smoking yet, eh?"

Later I would find out that Aunt Caroline, indeed, died of smoking.

(during this summer we also drank our first beer, even if I don't know the details anymore. I just know the we slept through the whole day and woke up during the sunset.)

You and I were thirteen when we first tried our the yellow pills.

We went to this playground, even if I don't know anymore what we wanted to do there. I mean, we were way to old to play.

I just know, that this neighbor's boy, James, asked us, if we wanted to buy some of his 'yellow pills'

"They ain't dangerous or anything", James said. "Jus' make ya feel better"

So we just gave him the money you wanted to buy us candy from. Trying out new things and all this bullshit.

You didn't liked the pills. They gave you this weird feeling in the stomach and you were sick for the next two days.

Another example why I were so jealous of you, Josie. Your body didn't wanted to die, it saved itself with this move.

Unfortunately, my body kind of hated me.

It liked the pills, the poison that would slowly kill me years later. I developed an addiction from them.

And this was the moment, when my death slowly started.

You and I were fourteen when we nearly kissed each other.

We both were already in a relationship at the time. It wasn't our first one and it wouldn't be our last one.

But when we're honest, you never really loved Liam and he never loved you. Everyone knew that he always kissed Nina Ukina in empty classrooms.

And Dean was more like a childish crush than anything else. I'm also pretty sure he's gay, but that's another topic.

It was summer vacation again so we were at Aunt Caroline's place again, even if she was in jail this time.

We already drank a few beers and tried to asked the moon, if the man in the moon was single. He didn't answered.

"Boys are idiots", you said with cheeks redder than normal. "Thay thin' we're idiots, but they're wrong."

"Yeah."

"We shoulda jus' marry each other", you said. "You know, when none other would wan' us."

"Every-everyone wants you."

"Jus'n case."

You looked at me with gray eyes, empathic and smooth. I looked at your lips and considered to kiss you

I should've done it

"Let's just do it now", I said, a lot clearer than the rest.

You just giggled like we're eleven again.

"Sure, Peyton."

The name confused me so much, I forgot what I wanted to do.

"Peyton?"

"'s ya mi'lle name."

"I know. But why?"

We sat there the whole night, watching the stars, looking in each other eyes. You never answered my question.

You and I were fifteen when we ran away from home.

Your parents wanted you to marry this guy we just called Gross Gabe, because we were pretty sure he was at least thirty. And smelled like shit. And seemed to be your uncle.

I didn't had more problems than usual, but I knew, you would need my help.

"I think my parents really went nuts", you said that one evening in San Francisco, where we worked in that fish restaurant. "I mean, like the last time I checked, the middle ages are over, right?"

"Totally. Like that's just crazy", I said, taking a yellow pill. "But I swear, if this guy gets you, I'm gonna kill him with my bare hands."

You looked into my eyes like that night last year.

"As much I appreciate your effort, I don't want you in prison."

I laughed.

"We don't have to deal with them anymore", I said. "They won't find us here."

They, in fact, found us three days later. But, Gross Gabe died mysteriously a week later and unfortunately, the police never fount out why.

You and I were sixteen when I told you about my suicidal thoughts.

I don't know where or when I told you it. The only thing I still remember is, that you looked me in the eyes, embraced me and said:

"Please don't do it, Peyton."

You and I were seventeen, when I ignored your wish.

It was the only thing I couldn't do for you. Stay alive.

After everything we did together, after everything you did for me, I couldn't keep it up anymore. I just... I couldn't.

I'm sorry, Josie.

(You were eighteen and I still seventeen when you finished school and left town.

I don't know what exactly happend with you after my death. I- you-it's complicated, actually.

I hope, when your were thirty and I still seventeen, you married like we planned.

I hope you wore a beautiful dress and that the person you married was stronger than I was ever was.

(Please just don't take Liam Sade back; He's still in love with Nina, nontherless what he told you)

I hope you had children. Sons, like you always joked about. Are their names John Lennon Floyd, Paul McCartney Floyd and Ringo Starr Floyd? ( You never liked George Harrison, so in case if you had another son you wanted to name him after me. So, how's Charles Pey Floyd?)

And if you changed your life, if you never married, became an porn star or a hippy, I hope you had an exciting and cool life.

Whatever you did, I hope you're happy

I hope I'll see you again, old and cranky and full of life stories you can tell me.)