Between each heartbeat I think of you.
You were the first real person I loved outside of our parents.
I thought you would be here forever. Long after I’d gone. I never contemplated you going. Now you’re gone. Before mom and dad. Before aunts and uncles. Before me.
I don’t want to be here without you. I don’t want to have to mourn our parents without you. We were supposed to help each other through that.
It feels as though I’ve lost a part of myself. When you were alive I knew (I just knew) there was a piece of me that was out there in you. Now there’s just a hole.
You are gone. You are not gone. I feel like I’m living two realities. I feel as though I’m reaching for something I will never find. I’m trying to grasp something that isn’t there.
My dear little brother. I know you’re at peace now, but the peace brought by that realization is so fleeting.
I miss you. I love you.