Guilt

He was what I wanted in high school. The mysterious dude that was quiet and goth and handsome. I knew that every girl in our group wanted him. Yet, somehow I got him to like me. We would talk for hours everyday, he was my best friend and he knew my secrets and I knew his. For months, this deep friendship of ours was hidden.

I first saw him in eighth grade. I would speak to him sporadically. Eventually I was in his little circle. I always still felt like an outsider, but at some point his and my relationship took a turn. Was I physically attracted to him? Yes, since eighth grade, but we were now in our junior year of high school.

Could this all have been just a high school crush? Yes I admit that. At the time though it was life, it was what I breathed every day. So then our relationship grew. I was ecstatic. Seriously, how was HE paying attention to me?

I was still the outcast in our group, being a military brat, I guess I was kind of used to this. Every few years we would leave and no one ever really keeps in contact. Maybe that was me though, maybe I wasn't worth keeping a hold of as a friend.

So this time it had been awhile. I got there when I was in seventh grade and I didn't leave until after my junior year. So here he goes paying attention to me! Seriously, I think I felt like I was delirious. After a good long while we "came out" to our group, we were in fact a couple.

That was short lived, as at the time I was a "high school witch" a pagan barely learning her craft. I then automatically got labeled that I had "put a spell on him." Of course it was unimaginable that I could ever be someone that anyone would ever want on their own. So we told our group.

At that point, he started to get tormented. I was too ugly for him to be with. I was a witch, therefore, anything he could feel for me was never going to be "real." How, of every girl that wanted him, I be the one he wanted to be with?

He broke up with me that week. I never blamed him. Everyone hurt him because of me and he had so many voices in his ears about me. Not a hundred percent sure what I ever did for everyone to hate me so much, but there we were.

Right before my senior year my dad was going to retire and they wanted us to move "home." A place I never really knew and going to family that I didn't really know. My parents tried their best with me and they thought moving me before my senior year started was the best option.

I moved "home" and I didn't get to say goodbye to many people, not that I had many friends to begin with. What I do know is that during October of my senior year, a boy I loved, who got tormented for caring for me in anyway, committed suicide. He went to school and killed himself at school.

I didn't get to attend the funeral. Not sure that I would have been welcome anyway. What I do know is that eight-teen years later, I'm still wondering if I hadn't made advances on him, if I hadn't felt for him at all, would he be living his dreams? He was in a band, he was the light of his little sister's life. These things I know. He was an artist. He was loved. Would this have happened if I never was with him? Would this have happened since he got harassed and tormented because of me? If I had just left it alone would he still be working on his dreams?