Allen Jay Navarrette.

Oh crap, where do I start? I'm going to go on some large rampage here, posting another one of those pages that are so long, no one wants to read it. But hey, maybe that's a good thing. I can be weak and sad and scared, and they'll never take the time to know it. Here goes.

I just wanted you to know that I never meant any of the stupid shit I said to you. I was afraid of loving you, of you loving me, and of everything that goes hand-in-hand with that bullshit relationship concept.

Fuck, I was such a moron. I know it. Everyone who sees me nowadays knows it, too, because they know I loved you. I mean, if they knew either of us, they knew we loved each other. We just both gave up trying after a while, settled on being best friends, talked to give each other advice and to share ourselves.

But fuck, I should have let it slip. Accidentally, I don't care. I should have just said it and gotten over my little chicken act.

Anyway, here's the fucking deal: I miss you - so fucking much, I don't know what to do with myself sometimes. I miss the silly things you said, the voicemails you left me (sometimes five a night). I miss the record we had on how many times you called me in twenty-four hours! "Just to annoy you," was what you promised. But you never accomplished that, annoying me. I loved answering, but if I did, you yelled at me. "Wait, wait, wait. I have to beat the record." You were so fucking adorable it was sickening.

Aw fuck, I miss talking to you. About everything, you didn't care. You listened to everything I could think to complain about. I miss listening to you in return, the way you weren't afraid to cry around me, and you would swear how much everything I did meant to you. I miss you telling me how important I was to you in general. I miss the life we had when the others weren't looking.

I miss listening to that "Ding Ding Dong" song with you, and listening to you giggle - it was a giggle, dude. I'm never going to let you have that one, because it was totally a fucking giggle. I miss making fun of each other on MS Paint when I used to ditch sixth and hang out in auto with you. I miss the way you teased me, in your grease-covered uniform, by trying to hug me, and I'd pretend it bothered me just to watch you laugh. Your laugh was the best sound in the world, and your silly crooked smile was one of the things I think of the most.

It feels so digustingly empty without you here. I remember coming home to hear that you were hit by that car and I laughed - "ANOTHER ONE?!" - and then worrying when I called to question you about it, because you didn't answer. I thought you might not have been okay, and I was so afraid. I smiled my ass off when you called me from the hospital and told me how much you wanted to see me. I regret not getting in there.

I still remember everything about you, but I have to admit that I'm afraid it might all fade away in a short amount of time. It's the thing I'm most terrified of right now, that I'm going to forget you. Your scent, your laugh, your smile, the way you walked, the way you teased me...all of it. I want every part of it for all eternity.

Remember La Joya, and the way you were too shy to even hug me between classes? Getting up your courage all year to hold my hand in the back of Mr. Davis's classroom? Sitting with me at lunch on those stupid tables outside the cafeteria? Hugging me because it was raining, and I was going to get cold? How about declaring me your best friend, or the first time you told me you loved me? Making our 'baby' together? Leaving me for La Sierra and losing contact, and then talking on the phone all night when we gained it back?

There was visiting El Diamante with your blackened eye, coming to my house for the first time, coming back to El D. You listening to me cry over Marc and then trying to express the fact that you would always love me, no matter who came and went. Your Halloween parties, and kissing me for the first time, after years of knowing each other.

And hey, remember when I would walk into auto every so often after ditching, and he'd be like, "You're still hanging out with this guy?" Haha, and I'd be like, "Duh! I love this guy." You'd always smile at that.

There were times I'd go to your classes, times you'd come to mine. You'd break my cigarettes and ask me to please, please quit, because it was so bad for me...I hate that I didn't, and still haven't. I'm sorry for that.

And I'm sorry you were jealous of Alx. I wish I would have spent way more time with you, instead of wasting my time there. I'm so sorry.

I really don't think you know how weird this all is. I don't think anyone knows, even myself, because I can't seem to get a grip on it. I try to explain it, and my mind becomes mush, my words jumble to incomprehensible pieces of shit, and I wonder how the fuck it can feel so intense and sound so stupid.

BUT IT'S FUCKING WEIRD. It's like, I look at your picture, and I think, "Is it real? Did I really used to talk to that guy every night of my life?" Because it's fading, dude, slowly but surely. It's all going away, already, after only three months. I told you, I'm terrified of that.

It's like, "To think, I used to talk to him as much as possible, and now I forget that he's more than just that picture every once in a while." God, I want to kill myself when I think that. I get so overwhelmed with emotion, so fucking PISSED OFF, I don't know what to do. I just want you back, and I can't even comprehend what the hell to do.

I'll try to remember everything about you. Trust me, I'm trying so hard. I'll remember wearing your sweater that was big enough to fit over my own, and the way I loved the smell of your clothes. I'll remember your drawings, your poetry, the Taylor-Allen party, and going to the moon (even though your mommy and daddy will miss you). I'll remember the way you loved to tickle me every time I passed or the way you'd somehow be around every corner, completely willing to walk me to class. I'll always remember the sound of your voice, or the way you said, "Jerky Turkey" every time we walked by each other.

And just so you know, you're still my Allen. You'll always be. You would ask that so adorably, and I'd tease you about it, but the answer will always be the same. Our jokes will always exist and I'll always remember the sweet things you said to me, as long as I live. People may not exactly appreciate these things as much as I do, but they're still important to me.