Author's Note: Wow, reviews rock. Thanks, you guys! :) This one is from Lizzie's POV, the next one will be from Miranda's and I'll probably write/post it tomorrow or Monday. And, again, I don't own the characters, nor do I own Sarah Harmer's song "Capsized."

wish I could wake up from the dream
in it I see a family photographed and there you are, tucked in the scene
and there's a jealous net inside my chest, there's a hurt and sadness there
maybe I'd tell you all about it if I thought you'd care

It's August. I'm sitting by the phone picking it up and setting it down again and again because I don't know who to call. I know who I want to call, but I can't call him, now, can I?

I don't even understand what it was, exactly, but I know whatever he thinks happened that night bothered him so much that he won't even talk to me anymore. Suddenly he was never home when I called or came by. I saw him at graduation and he completely avoided me. He still talked to Miranda-she's the one who told me he was leaving and part of me really wants to get off my bed and run to the bus station waving my arms in the air, yelling his name.

But the other part is holding me down, she's telling me that it's my fault and I can't just expect him to say everything's okay between us, even if that's all I want him to say. I know it was stupid. Pete turned out to be an idiot, which I'd already known he was but I thought I could tolerate it because I thought the benefits of being Pete's girlfriend would outweigh everything negative about him and me and our relationship. But I just got sick of it after the prom, knowing what he expected of me, not an unreasonable expectation but repulsive enough to lead me to that moment, the one that changed everything, that one that destroyed my friendship with Gordo.

I was standing there looking at him and thinking: So this is what all of this has been leading up to, this is what I've been waiting for, but what if he doesn't even want it, and maybe I don't either, I mean, he's my friend and he is a great friend and if it doesn't work out, then what happens? My mind was spinning and I couldn't make it stop long enough to get out any words at all, so I just smiled at him while I tried to think of something to say. But I waited too long, and he ran away from me, back to the dance, back to his date, and afterward it didn't seem like the kind of moment that should have changed anything at all between two friends, but it did.

heavy heart gets lighter by your side
but there are thoughts I wish I'd heard
if they ask you how I'm holding up
say I'm holding out for the words

In college, I moved on. I had a string of boyfriends and being popular didn't mean anything anymore, it turned out that the popular kids in high school were the inconsequential ones in college, and I felt finally liberated from all that pressure, like it freed me up to be me, after all this time. I made friends, I got decent grades, I came home once in a while, and I never saw or heard from him once.

Miranda and I kept in touch, but it was hard to preserve a friendship like ours when it was stretched across a thousand miles. It was hard to get used to not being friends with someone who knows all your secrets, but I'd had some experience with adjusting to that particular situation already. At least this time it was mutual, and I knew it wasn't only my fault, and at least this time I knew she still loved me even if we didn't talk.

what's the sense in being so sensitive?
can I trade this thin skin for a shell?
there are some things I've got no feeling about
but there are some things I can tell

So now it's winter break, sophomore year, and I'm spending it at home. Everything is more or less the way I left it, nothing really changed while I was gone. Matt's in high school now, and taller than me. We still fight, we still don't mean what we say, we still get along when it matters. Miranda wrote to say she'd be here in a couple of days and by the way Gordo's in town too, you guys should get together or something. Right, because he really wants to see me... does he?

I sat by the phone for a couple of hours just like I did that day two years ago, picking the receiver up and putting it down, rehearsing what I'd say, deciding not to rehearse what I was going to say, writing down what I was going to say, then throwing the papers away.

heavy heart, get lighter by yourself
it's been so long since you capsized
and you've been lying out there in the sun
has it begun? has it begun?

I set the phone down angrily for the 65th time (literally, I counted), irritated with myself. It rang suddenly and I screamed out loud. It wasn't him, or Miranda, just some guy I barely even remembered from high school, calling to invite me to a party, and I didn't want to go but I did want to go, so I said yeah, sure, maybe I'll show up, trying to be cool even though I like to pretend being cool doesn't matter to me anymore.

I want to go because I want to see him and I don't want to go, because he might be there. But I'd like an explanation, even if it's scary, and I'd like to offer friendship, and I'll pretend I wasn't hurt if he'll pretend he didn't mean to hurt me, and I won't let on that I've missed him everyday and I won't tell him about the notebooks I've filled up with letters unsent or the 65 aborted phone calls today alone. And he won't have to tell me the reason he left and I won't have to tell him the things I thought and didn't say that night, and we'll move forward instead of living in the past. But I really would like an explanation.

heavy heart, have you heard?
I could use the words...