Gone

Music was his life. He surrounded himself with it. Now he plays guitar alone in the basement, never realizing that he's just as talented as he always was, maybe more so. He has gone from commanding a stage, forcing everyone to see, to not being able to look me in the eye when we talk. He's ashamed and scared, and I'm ashamed and scared that he's sitting right in front of me and yet I miss him as if he was dead.

I looked up to him. So much of who I am is because of him and now who he is is somehow missing, gone, maybe forever. The scary thing is, I think he remembers how he used to be. I think he misses the old him as much, probably more, than I do. He knows that things have changed and that they will never be the same. When I'm with him I try, but I can only seem to last a few minutes before I feel like I'm going to start crying. The old him would've made fun of me for being such a girl, but who he is now doesn't notice. Or maybe he does notice. Maybe it's just easier to pretend not to see my sadness, my selfishness in missing someone who isn't really gone.

The one who made me love music. The one who made me important by association. The one who hasn't left the house in years but is still more known than me. Gone, in my mind. Does the fact that I think of him as missing make him more so somehow?