Hey Cheech. I remember when I first started calling you that, after you hated me calling you Cheechee. I can’t believe how time keeps going no matter what. But also that empty hole in my heart is forever here. It feels like a persistent lump in my throat sometimes. Like I forget to breathe when I think about you and our memories.

I really try to not get angry at your decision. Nobody can ever imagine how painful it is to lose a sibling by suicide until it happens. It’s unbearable knowing we’ll never get an opportunity to live together, eat at cool ass restaurants, experience hardships together. You were only 21. Only 21. I get so constricted internally thinking about all the things you were dealing with in a dark cloud.

I wouldn’t wish this insatiable, everlasting, numbness on anyone’s heart.