Definition of Irony

Haven’t written to you in a while.
Haven’t had the need to I guess.
Funny, that is, because I haven’t
gone to school in two weeks.
That is also funny because I have
been less numb these past two weeks
than I have ever before. I have Justin
to thank for both ironies.
He makes me happy, god does
he make me happy.
But he is a guy so, logically;
he drives me up the wall
at the same time. And then,
of course, there is you.
And your lack of communication,
of course. The thought actually
came to me yesterday that
you could be in the hospital again.
I mean, hell, I haven’t talked to you
in four days. The last time that happened,
when we were actually one speaking terms
of course, was when you tried to off yourself.
But, thank god, you texted me.
Put my over active imagination to rest.
But it never really helps. I still wonder
about you all the time. If you are happy.
If you are okay. If the latest drama
has paid its toll on you yet.
Things are not like they used to be
between us, are they? Oddly enough
I am okay with that. Or I would be
if my mind would stop freaking
out about things that may be going wrong
in your life. Really, the only thing that I miss,
is my ear to talk off. And not even that.
It’s the companionable silence I crave
that you gave to me. Sitting on your porch,
a pack of smokes, a lighter, and nothing to
talk about. I need that again. That’s why
I called you the other day. I need to sit
next to you and know that you were there.
To smoke and know that you didn’t care,
that you were sitting there smoking next to me.
The thought, the simply concept of knowing
that I am not alone, and never will be.
The simple rationale that if I call at anytime
you will answer. So, when you didn’t get back to me,
when I didn’t know that you were there,
I felt nothing. And once again
we come back to the feeling of numbness
I fear so much. Funny how it always
comes back to that, huh?