I Remember Losing a Friend
I remember having a friend who I’d ride for,
I remember having a friend who I’d die for,
I remember having a friend who never appreciated that,
And told me he was sorry that I’d committed so much,
I remember losing a part of myself,
Remembering the promise I had told myself,
As the realization (and the day), began to dawn upon us,
I felt the bitter reality hit me harder than any drug,
Permeating into my bones,
Taking away my resolve and control,
I remember hearing myself say that it was okay,
That we were men, men who had control,
Men who made decisions, not being controlled by such,
Such petty self-interest.
Had I drank more?
How was I not the one puking behind the trees?
I don’t remember where we went after we decided that home would never be enough,
I couldn’t summon any memories of better times,
And for the life of me, in the energy of the moment,
I was at a loss for any tangible reality,
That led to the continuation of the friendship.
It was instinct, reflex, reality coming home to roost,
I made no decisions about where we were heading,
I just led on, into the end of the night.
Maybe if the alcohol hadn’t been involved,
Maybe if either of us had the drive to hold the other accountable,
But I don’t think I would have ever let that be an option,
And why would I take your advice, if you had given it,
Why would I have been sympathetic?
I had to come back from where I was,
You had to keep going from where you were.
We were chasing the same dragon,
Being hunted by everyone in the world,
And we moved so much more swiftly when we had the belief,
That there was a purpose in our mutually self-destructive habits.
I still hold hope,
The same hope I hold halfway through an album,
Hoping the songs get better as the playback timer counts down.