i can't seem to be able to write anymore. haven't been able to for awhile. Richmond Knapp overdosed on heroin the night i posted that last poem about. of course i didn't know at the time.
well last winter, i don't know whether i've documented it on this particular site already, i dated and was in love with a boy named Michael Steven Juhl. his ex girlfriend at the time was friends with me and because of his like for her still, we ended up breaking up. but remained closer than any other person i knew. like literally... i never felt the want or need to see anyone in the entire town unless i thought it might lead to me running into him. i continued to love him. even as i fell for another man and went into a relationship of my own. i loved him. i had been friends with him since my freshman year of high school. he was the first boy that i had met at HPHS that i had hung out with outside of school. we had gone to the beach. last year we met at the beach a lot. he spent days alone with me. i learned so much about him that it felt like we were meant to be friends. meant to know each other. he was comfortable. he was interesting, funny, nice, sweet, amazing and had the greatest eyes in the world. he was the first boy i slept over with. i ditched a lot of my classes last year to sleep in with him at the Crosslands motel. I don't know what it was but whenever we saw each other over this past year, it's like all of our conversations were with our eyes or only when we were alone did we actually speak. but we were still that same closeness.
pardon my splurging writing, as i said, this is the first time in a WHILE.
Well, my friend Mike... my love, mike.... he hung himself.
January 23rd 2011. The night after we had driven around that morning, eating gummy bears.
he didn't leave a note. i don't know if he had wanted someone to save him at the last second but i believe he did.
i've experienced a lot of deaths.
but this one has clearly hit me the hardest.
not only do i not understand it, but i'm not okay with it. i can't get myself to just say rest in peace and move on. every second of every day that i'm not being distracted by something else, i'm thinking of him. of things we did together of things he said to me of every moment we shared. it's replaying in my head over and over and over again.
i miss him.
and what's weird is we had stopped making plans up until that week. he had hit me up. and we were hanging out because we wanted to hang out. all this past year we saw each other because we'd run into each other.
i don't know what to say really. other than every person reading this.... if you didn't know him, i'm sorry you didn't. i'm sorry you didn't get the chance cuz now he's fucking gone. i went to his funeral. at the church less than 100 ft away from the house in which he ... and i... spent many a night and early morning together. i went to the cemetery where i helped shovel dirt onto his casket and got to see my friend buried six feet under ground mere DAYS after we had hung out.
it's unreal to me. even though his wake was open-casket. i saw his dead body with my own eyes i visited his corpse seven times that night. i wrote a note and put it in his casket i said my peace and yet still... this doesn't sit with me.
the moments i shared with him.... they were not moments of a depressed boy who would one day end his own life. they were moments of a pure soul, one who knew more than the people he spent his time with. he liked emo music but dressed gangster. he was really nice and sweet but would only show anger to those that knew him. if i had not dated him, if he had not loved me, i may not have ever known how spectacular he truly was.
we had sex. his lips were soft. we did errands together. even when he was back with his ex, he'd meet me at the beach at midnight and we'd hang out for as long as possible. he was trying to teach me how to skip rocks. he truly loved my music and art. he was kindest, most supportive, most interesting fucking human being to ever walk this planet and if i could play the role of God... if i could get him back and put anybody else in his place i fucking would. i would give my life just so that he could be back living. if he could trade places with my own family, my flesh and blood, that's how much i love him. i would do anything to see his sparkly green eyes look up at me one more time. to hear his laugh or voice on the phone late at night when i couldn't fall asleep.
i've been to the house where he died millions of times now. every other person i've talked to is either creeped out, scared, or unnerved by the laundry room where he did it. but all i am is awestruck. when i'm there all i want to do is stand under the pipe he hung on. any way shape or form to be close to him again. i wish with all my heart that i could turn back time and go back to last winter when i would fall asleep in his arms, spend time with his family...
i can't believe he's gone. it's been hurting more every day.
i don't think it will ever stop hurting.
and i want to live on for him...
but all i seem to be capable to doing is dying a little more inside as each second passes.
i love you, mike.
ALWAYS AND FOREVER MY MIKA YOU'LL BE.
