You know what I miss, Lance?
Other than just you in general, being a friend to call on?
Other than your smile and laugh?
Other than knowing you'd be there to fall on?
I miss the way you start conversations,
how you'd jump straight into situations.
I miss the way you say, "Hey, you know what's crazy?"
And get me feeling fresh as a daisy.
It's not like we spoke on the phone everyday,
but when we talked, we'd have so much to say.
And when I ranted, you were content to just listen,
or when we shared music, how your eyes would just glisten.
What we had, what we have, it's something like love,
To call you a friend is a fact I'm proud of.
So, I'm making a list of things that we'll do
when you get back, if you're down for them too:
Go on walks, climb tall trees,
Finally fly my kites on a breeze.
Eat Indian, Korean and chinese,
Listen to records and mp3s.
Help the Bessins steal honey from bees,
Breathe the salt wind off the seas.
Grab a couch and watch dvds,
Roll down hills and skin our knees.
Paint a picture, tie-dye some tees,
Throw a party with wine and cheese.
Drink a slushy just for the brain freeze,
Collaborate on some mix cds.
Learn a new language (like japanese),
Perfect our international expertise.
High fives, low fives, hugs with a squeeze,
laugh, smile, debate, frolic and tease.
That day, Lance, will be ours to seize,
So if you would, come back to me, please.