you're not green but you're growing up

I was with you when you bought your first rug. It was from Bed, Bath & Beyond, a beige color. You were so excited that before you got on the train you texted me, "I got a rug," and I told you to go home and sit on it. 

We made each other happy. 

I carried you with me everywhere but mostly you were with me at night- at home in my room, walking downtown, or drunkenly walking home. I would be with you while you would walk into a deli to get your favorite sandwich well after 2AM, or a bagel and coffee on the weekdays on your way to work; breakfast was your favorite. I was there after the many nights you'd drink and eat at the Ace Hotel with coworkers, nostalgia lane. I used to be jealous, but I don't think I could go there, back to the last place you were real. 
I was there that night your mother and brother got into a car accident and I could hear the worry in your voice. I wouldn't let you sleep without putting a smile on your face. You never slept. 
I was with you when you were hungover on a Sunday ordering Chinese food, looking out your bedroom window, rolling around on your bed, ready to start your next freelance piece, or plan for your busy week ahead.
I was with you everyday, minus a few where I made you mad, or you drove me crazy. You nicknamed me Hot Pocket, or Kelley Kapoor, and even though I'd pretend to be mad, I wasn't. 

You were with me that night I got trespassed from a bar and I couldn't stop crying on my porch. Or the night I took too many drugs and inevitably told you I loved you. You were there when my roommate spilled wine all over my laptop- I called you like you had all the answers, like you would know how to bring my lifeless Macbook back from the dead.
You were there when I was at the hospital after my sister had her baby. Or when I was in Brooklyn looking for good coffee. Or when I tore my tights and laughed about how they became "easy access". 

Since we had met, on and off, you'd be with me all the time. On my mind, in my thoughts, on the clock, waiting to hear your ringtone, hear your voice. But never, ever were we really right in front of each other. You were in New York. I was in Florida. Brooklyn. Gainesville. And even when we could have made all of these instances, these occurrences, these fantasies, something real- we didn't. You didn't. 

I don't know what hurts more after having someone in your life leave it for good- sharing plentiful memories with one another or having no memories together at all, just ideas, just dreams.

"You turn something negative and you destroy it."

When somebody you love tells you that you destroy things, it destroys you. 

You don't rush
You don't want
You don't push
You don't need

I fall
but you don't hurt
and I run, to not fall

And I can't Breathe

And I wanna cry but I don't wanna scare you
cause your so soft, and you move slow
and you're not green, but you're growing up

And I can't breathe