Sam was the first guy who made me feel like I needed to really have someone there to lean on. Being with him was a rush of so many emotions. From hanging out on his hammock and missing the bus just so I would have a reason to walk home with him, to long and pointless letters; there was something so incredibly special about him.
I know what you must be thinking. "Silly teenage infatuation," right? That's what I thought at the time too. He was my best friend, but those changed every day at that age. Fads went in and out, people moved from place to place, but he was the only constant element in my life.
When my family finally moved away, Sam and I kept in touch. I have to admit it was hard and we got more and more lazy. We both agreed this "distance thing" was too hard. But the beauty was that we remained such close friends. He came to visit a few times and it felt like he'd never been gone.
On October 17th of that year, I was chatting with a friend when I heard my call-waiting beep. I told her to hold on and went to pick up. What I heard broke my heart ... Sam had died in a car accident early that evening.
It's been three years and, still, writing that word -- died -- is the hardest thing for me to do.
Those things that I lacked in life ... I realize now that he helped to fill in the gaps. He never complained about having to pick up the pieces of my life for me so I could feel complete. And maybe I've never made this clear, but the little things he used to do meant the world to me.
I remember this one time, early in our relationship, when we'd had this really stupid fight about something I can't even recall. It was pouring rain and I was waiting outside getting soaked. He walked over to me, brushed my hair out of my eyes, said, "I'm still mad at you. But you're getting wet," handed me his umbrella, and walked home in the rain.
He was sick for a week after that and I felt awful. But part of me was delighted. Not that he was sick, of course, but that he still cared no matter how much I'd upset him. That was the one thing about Sam that completely did it for me: he made me feel like I was special, that I was loved.
Now, after many failed attempts at finding love, I'm thinking perhaps I've found it again. The new guy I've found is so incredibly wonderful. Everything about him is just the right combination to make my heart skip a few beats. Yet ... I still find myself thinking back to Sam sometimes.
Sam used to ask me why I loved him and I always used to blush and answer that I didn't know. I'm not sure why I said that because there must be countless reasons.
But I suppose if I don't even know why I loved him, how can I ever stop?
