Man You're Heavy
Dear Close Friends,
I'm writing to tell you of a something which I have carried for a long time. Something you have experienced perhaps unknowingly and which is not obvious on a surface level examination of the things I carry. It's something which applies to you and which has affected my life very much. That something is you.
Through the simplest and least important of times--school classes, to the most important and complicated of times--family problems and actual survival, I have carried you by always being there because I want to be a good friend. In school I have helped you with projects.
When you've needed help on fixing your paper for perfection I have helped. When your ears constantly filled with the shouts of your parents until your mom and you were left without a home, you needed me. I spent time with you and let you live with my family and I. The time you flow off your bike into oncoming traffic and were covered in blood, not able to breathe and barely moving, I helped you off the road. My leg was bloody and slightly to the side after hurdling of the bike in an attempt to stop quickly and yet I stumbled over to help you to the side of the road. After we were on the sidewalk we called your cousin and he took us back home.
In all of these cases, it has always been my choice to carry you. Any good friend would in times of need, regardless of the magnitude. If it’s a 10 minute review of your project or 4 hours by your side, that’s to be expected of a close friend.
At times, it can be a burden when you fail to be there for me or be a friend back. After I’ve stayed by your side for hours caring for you and you still ignore me or would rather hang around other guys than me. When you weren’t supportive to me after my friend and running partner died even though I helped you with family problems. Still, that does not make me wish to stop, it's what I do. There is no set physical weight to this thing I carry. It does, however, symbolically weigh 100 lbs, the max. All of the stories and worthwhile memories I have are of us spending time and me carrying you through a situation.
Every day and I have worked to help you with your everyday problems. To you who still have trouble at home listening to your parents bicker or you who wrecked your dirt bike and need help getting back to town. I’m always ready to come get you or calm you down and offer a safe place. It consumes all of my effort to keep some of you together with all the support I offer. Many personal sacrifices and time have been sacrificed for your gain--my time and effort have gone towards forging a better life for my friends and acquaintances in the hopes of making better friends. That means helping you with that science project, driving you away from places you shouldn’t be, and fighting for your life when our adventures go wrong. Without carrying you, what would I do? I've become accustomed to it and it is what makes me who I am today. My character has improved and developed by dealing with you so much.
I have talked you out of depression and was nominated to go to a leadership conference this summer.
Thank you for possibly understanding how much I give to you.