It’s been a long time… over 4 and a half years… Wow, I can’t believe it’s already been that long.Well, I guess there’s some things that I need to say. I’m sorry that I haven’t spoken to you lately. I hope you’re doing well where you are right now.
It still feels like just yesterday was the last time I saw you. When we went to Panera bread. When the Explorer overheated and broke down, and my mom had to come rescue us and we had to tow the car. It was just another day. I’m sorry that I didn’t get the chance to say a proper goodbye to you that day. “I’ll see you the next time we’re both at home.”
How did I know that you’d have your life unfairly ripped away from you before you came back home?
You know, I really need you right now. You were my best friend. I could trust you with anything. If there was anyone who could convince me that a beautiful smile and an amazing hug could make all the problems of the world go away, it was you. I still love you so much for that.
When you were taken away from us, I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I rush home? And do what, wallow in my tears over things I had no control over? So I just went on with the rest of the week. I was dying inside, but I went to my classes… I went to my rehearsals… I played my performances.
I never once grieved. I think it’s starting to catch up with me. Now, over 4 and a half years later… I need to grieve.
I miss you, sweetheart. I miss your smile. I miss your gentle voice. I miss your amazing hugs. I miss your laugh. I miss literally being able to tell you everything, things I couldn’t, wouldn’t, or didn’t tell a lot of other people. I miss sharing some of my deepest secrets with you. I miss everything. When I was having a bad day or a horrible week, you could always bring my smile back. I still remember everything about you like I just saw you yesterday. Maybe it’s because I still see you in my dreams. Or when I don’t get enough sleep. You can never be replaced in my heart. I carry you with me always.
I miss you, Mary. You were my best friend. And now you’re gone. And it still hurts. A lot.
(Thanks, Avril. Couldn’t have said it better myself.)