Friday, September 4, 2015

Who would've thought that I'd miss someone calling me a punk so much?

"Oh, take your time, don't live too fast.
Troubles will come and they will pass.
You'll find a woman and you'll find love.
And don't forget, son, there is someone up above."

                                   -Simple Man, Lynard Skynard 

I had a dream about Corey the other night. And I don't even remember the entire dream, but at some point I woke up and was completely pissed off at him. Pissed off to the point that I picked up my phone to call him and give him a good cussing at two in the morning. And then I remembered, I can't call him. And no matter how much I want to, I can never call him again.

And I don't know which emotion was stronger at that point. I don't know if sadness outweighed my anger. Or if my anger outweighed my sadness. I just don't know. I never went back to sleep after that, I just laid there and replayed our entire friendship in my head. And there were years upon years to go through, and memories from the deepest part of my brain to come front and center.

When I was around eight years old I was a pretty quiet kid. I didn't get into a whole lot of trouble, I didn't even really go to my friends houses a whole lot. I pretty much just stayed home, did my chores, read and minded my own. I had friends, but they didn't really come over to my house a whole lot either. My brother however, had his best friends at our house at all times. Mostly Johnathan. Those two were inseparable from the day they met. But then one day he brought home another friend. And that friends name was Corey.

And he was beautiful. And I'm not being weird about it, but I am being sentimental, because he really was. He just rode the bus home with us one day, and while I didn't talk to him, because I was too shy, he came home with us. And then he lived with us on and off for the next seven years. And I know that sounds strange as hell, and maybe it was, but to us it was perfectly fine.

Him and Greg shared a room and he went everywhere with us, even driving up to Indiana on a long holiday weekend for a family get together. Afterall, he was family to us. And on that particular trip we got stuck in traffic on the interstate for somewhere around three hours, the heat was so ridiculous and we were all miserable. You see, we didn't have air conditioning, we had windows. The boys were luckier than the rest of us, they got to take their shirts off. And since I was sitting in the middle of them I got to be even hotter than usual and try not to look in Corey's general direction, because hello he wasn't wearing a shirt. That lasted for all of an hour and the heat finally got to us and next thing I know I was waking up. I had fallen asleep on him and my face was officially stuck to his chest from sweat. I know, we were just real attractive.

Another time Momma and I drove to one of their football games (we went to all of their games) and didn't realize that it was almost in Alabama until we had been in the car for three damn hours and finally pulled into the home teams parking lot. The boys had to ride the bus to the games, but they could ride home with their families if it was a far away game. We stayed for that damn game, with it thundering, lightning and pouring freezing rain, until they finally called it at halftime. We all loaded in the car and started making the trek back home. I was so cold that I couldn't feel my toes or hands, so Corey (who's legs I always had to sit on, because we had a small car) wrapped me into his sweatshirt, took my shoes off and tucked my feet into his jersey with him and held my hands in his hands trying to make me as warm as possible. And once I got warm and he asked me if I was warm enough we went back to sitting normal.

Just kidding, I totally lied and said that I was still cold so he would keep holding me and the following Monday I told all of my friends that he held my hand the whole way back home. I left out the whole "it was for survival and he was trying to help" part. They didn't need to know that. Besides, I only had like three friends and they thought he was cute too and cussed me over it. Haters. (P.s. We all got bronchitis or sick from that and my feet were dyed blue from the rain and my shoes).

And I say all of this, but there are so many other things to say. And so many more memories to continue with. But no matter how much or how many times I talk about it, I could never convey to you about how awesome he was and how much he meant to my family. And to me. He meant a great deal to more people than he will ever know. It's been a little over a year and I still miss him. I reckon I always will.

So, to you my dear old friend I say- You're still a punkass. But you're a punkass that I miss being able to check in with. Don't worry, you're still my favorite. Love, Katie "Ruth".