What if?

Darren,

What would have happened if we'd never met? Do you think about that sometimes? I do. I think about it all the time.

Why? Sometimes I wonder who I would be if you weren't part of my life.

Would I really be any different? Would I be better? Worse? And what about you? What would you be like?

Don't tell me you never think about it. I know you better than that.

It's times like these when I wish, on some level, that I hadn't met you. That I was just me. Not you and me. Almost like Peanut Butter and Jelly. Cant have one without the other, right?

That can be smothering sometimes, you know? I can't go out alone without hearing a million times, "Where's Daz?" Sometimes I just want to scream out, "I don't know! I don't care! We're not joined at the hip, you know!"

But then I'd have to hear all the "What's wrong? Did you guys have a fight?" speeches. That's almost worse than the other. Just because we need a little time apart people think were at each other's throats.

That time I fell and hit my cheek - Do you remember that? I had that really nasty bruise. Did you hear them all talking? They thought you had done it. My God, don't they have anything better to talk about? Why do they have to go around making up all these crazy stories?

But I'm rambling. Seriously, do you think about it?

Do you wonder where you would be right now if we'd never met? Sometimes it scares me to think about what I would be like without you. Other times, it just seems like it would make things easier.

Don't misunderstand. I'm not saying I regret anything. My life would be empty without you.

I'm just saying "What if?" I know all the what-ifs in the world won't change anything, but that's fine. I don't want anything to change. I'm happy. I may not show it all the time, but I am.

I don't tell you that enough. I don't mean to upset you. That's not the purpose of this letter. I'm not sure there even is one. You should know me well enough by now to know to just ignore me when I go off on one of these tangents.

I was just thinking about it. Not just you. Anybody. How would I be different if I hadn't met...I don't know. That beggar on the corner I gave change to last week? Would I be different? And in what way? I know. I'm asking to many questions. Some things are better left unanswered.

Maybe when it's all said and done, we would be the same people we are no matter what we do. We would have just taken a different route to get there.

Now I know I'm not making sense.

I guess what brought this all on was just thinking about you not being in my life. I don't want to think about that. I always want you there. Right beside me. Where you belong.

Am I getting too sappy?

That's usually your problem, not mine. I'm saying too much. I usually don't do that either.

I can open up with you. If I went spouting off like this to anyone else, they'd have me committed. But I know you understand. You always have. I can convey more to you with one look than with all the drivel I've been flooding you with tonight. I guess I've always felt that way.

The first time I saw you, I knew that we would be perfect together. You were so nervous. You hid it well, but I could tell. The others thought you were incredibly self-assured and bold. But I knew you were shaking like a leaf on the inside.

They couldn't hear the little tremble in your voice. I knew it didn't belong there. I'd only talked to you, what twice, before then? But I'd memorized your voice. I could have picked it out in a crowded room.

Your voice is mesmerizing, you know. It hypnotizes people. Makes them do things they wouldn't normally do. But that's fine. Mesmerize me. Hypnotize me. I want to be spellbound.

I'm rambling again. Maybe I should just end this for now...

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I close the notebook. I've been writing for hours. Writing a letter I'll never give you. Words you'll never read. I just had to get it all out. I wouldn't burden you with all of my crazy thoughts.

I turn out the light and plod softly back to the bedroom. You're curled up on one side of the bed. I gently ease myself onto the other side, trying not to wake you. You snuggle close once I'm in bed and mutter softly, "Is anything wrong, Dan?"

I stroke your hair and whisper, "No, go back to sleep."

Within minutes, you're sound asleep again. Nothing's wrong. Nothing will ever be wrong.