<HTML><FONT SIZE=3 PTSIZE=10> Ryan was only fifteen, very thin with semi long hair. I remember all the girls thought he was so hot. I was his best friend, they all thought I was good looking too, but he was better. It made me jealous sometimes. I didn't really care though, he was my best friend, the best friend I could ever have, and will ever had had. I was sixteen, exactly one year older than him, to the day. When he first came to my school, I didn't like him much. I said all kinds of stuff about him. Then one day on a field trip a teacher made him set next to me, ( we were in eight grade). We were both pretty popular, but he was a little less than me so I didn't like the idea that someone outside of my click was sitting with me. He started talking, I just wanted to ignore him and tell him to shut up, but... he seemed to be pretty cool. Although, at the moment I would've denied thinking that. Within the hour, we were best friends.<BR>
That day, on that bus, we pretty much told each other about all of our insecurities, and interests. Everything. One of those interests was drugs, mainly pot. I lied and told him I'd smoked it before, I wanted to be superior and experienced I guess. He said he hadn't but really wanted to try. I never really thought we would get into any kind of drugs you know? One day though, he called me over his house and he had some pot. A LOT of pot, I have no idea where or how he got that much. It was one of those big zip-lock bags. A real big bag, stuffed with bud. His dad bought us beer so that wasn't any problem, we drank, and I pretended to smoke the weed with him for a while. Then, before I knew it I was really smoking it. It was kinda strange, maybe scary the first time I actually got high. It took a few times of smoking it before I ever got high, but I did eventually.<BR>
I remember, I was drinking some beer, and we were smoking through his water bong. He didn't like beer much, so I'd drink all his too. His dad bought us a twelve pack each, everyday pretty much. I for some odd reason had a very, very high tolerance for alcohol. I would drink both of our twelve pack's, of course I would get drunk, but I sure wasn't as wasted as I should've been. Then, the next thing I knew I was outside the house, beating a chain against the barn talking about some girl. Ryan was walked up and told me he didn't even notice I left. Apparently, we both blacked out, he just sat there where he was and zoned, I got up and walked outside. That, kinda scared me. I didn't remember anything that happened other than me opening my eyes and I was outside. But, after the scare I realized that, I felt pretty good. I couldn't stop laughing. <BR>
Months went by, just like that. Then a year, we worked for his dad. His dad had a lot of money so we were paid pretty well, we bought sixty dollars worth of pot every single day, all through the summer, and through the whole year of school following that. Well, almost the whole year, he left in March. By this time, I was living with him from Mon.-Sat. because I worked at his house. His dad owned several horses, and we took care of them. Neither of our parents new about the drugs, up to this point we'd tried a few other things. We never did acid together, but we were ready to. Everyday, before school we'd get high. After school we'd promptly get high again. We'd smoke our remaining weed so that however much was left from the sixty dollar bag, it would last until about 2:00 a.m., when we went to bed. Oh, sometime in the day we'd take a trip to a trailer park, where we bought it. I drank beer all the time too, and his dad's Scottish and gin. I was an alcoholic pretty much. I was drunk five days out of seven for about two and a half years. Age fifteen to seventeen 1/2. <BR>
Those were, and probably will always be the happiest years of my life. I'm not going to lie, and for those of you who've done drugs you know how fun it is. It was great, sure sometimes I had some pretty bad scares. Like this one time, I feel off the roof of his housed landed on his driveway. It was a three level house so I had a long fall. The only thing I remember is standing up and coughing. Then I felt something cold hit my cheek, (it was me hitting the water drain on the way down), and then a loud smack. That was me hitting the concrete. I blacked out again, the next thing I remember was being back on the roof with Ryan, smoking more, he didn't even notice I fell. Another time, we got some bad weed, and I saw some strange things. He did too, he killed an animal and picked it up and completely forgot he had just killed it. He thought his dog must've done it. As for me, I saw cartoons, it scared me because it's not everyday you see a couple of cartoons jog by, and one ran by with a baby stroller. Then next thing I knew I was standing in the middle of the road with a semi truck heading right for me.<BR>
Shortly after that, about two months, I was walking to a gas station with some of my other friends, we were all high. We'd just finished smoking about six bowls, and two joints, we'd just finished the last joint when my dad pulled up in his truck. He told me to get in, he started driving back to my house. I was worried that he might smell the pot on me, or just somehow know that I was high. Then he asked me if there's something I want to tell him. I said no. Then he said, that Ryan had ratted me out, told his dad all about it. I said told his dad about what, I knew what he was getting to. He said Ryan's dad called him, and said we'd been smoking pot. I didn't lie, it was useless I just said yeah, it's true. I knew that it wasn't like my dad said though. Ryan didn't "rat" anyone out. He just told the truth because he got caught. Shortly after that, one day I was outside and a car pulled up in the driveway. I was at my own house now, it was Ryan's mom, which was odd because she lived in California, and we were in W. Virginia. Ryan got out of the passenger side, and said, "Hey, what's up?" he looked down and ran his fingers through his hair, and put on this old green hat he always wore. "Yeah, I'm--uh-- I'm leaving. Going back with my mom."<BR>
"When?" I tried not to let it show that I was being crushed inside.<BR>
"Now." I think he was trying to hide the same thing.<BR>
Before he got back in the car we hugged each other, and said bye. He said,"See ya.". I remember thinking, <I>I hope.</I> I've seen Ryan once since then, it was about five or six months after he left. Now it's been a few years, I haven't seen him since. He was the last best friend I ever had, I doubt I'll ever have another friend that I consider, a "best" friend, again. He was my best friend yes, but he was more than that. I'm not gay, he isn't either, but we had a very very special friendship. We loved eachother like brothers, brothers who never fought, but brothers that were best friends. That friendship is gone now, and I'll always regret that I didn't get to have it longer. We used to joke and say we'd live together, or near eachother and just sit on our porch all day and drink beer and smoke pot. Of course I doubt we would've smoked pot, and we'd probably have wives so we'd have to be neighbors. But, I just so much wish that we could've grown old being best friends.<BR>
I never let him know what a dear friend he was, and will always be to me. I'm grown up now, still a teen, I'm nineteen and married, I have a son--- but I just wish we could still be friends, or that I could go back in time and just be fifteen and sixteen again for a little longer. Maybe someday.<BR>
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If I had it to do all over again, I'd go back and do it, even the drugs. Although the nearly ruined my life, and future. It was fun, and I was happy. I'm not generally a very happy person. I should say wasn't a happy person. I'm very happy now, I have a beautiful wife, things are great. But my life sure could use a touch of Ryan again. I miss having a brother. Someday, I plan to look him up, till then, I'll just have to go on with my life. The reason I lost my best friend is because of the drugs we did, so you may want to watch yourself. Most people are going to try something regardless, no matter how many times you are told not to. Most of you will. And if you like it, you'll probably do it again, but be responsible, and make sure that it doesn't cause you to lose things in life. I've seen other friends die because of it, I've seen intelligent people, become burn-outs. I'm not glorifying drugs either, I'm just telling the truth. I've stopped doing them, and I'll never do it again. I've lost a great thing.</HTML>
