Part IV: Looking up

    Everything was different after you died and I’m afraid I can’t remember exactly what it was like while you were alive. Mom and Dad tell me I’ve gotten some stories wrong and I can’t make out clear pictures of certain memories. Maybe I should’ve written it all down right after you died when my memory was freshest. I should’ve typed up a detailed report of your life but I was only eleven and I still would’ve forgotten details. How do you put a person on paper? How can you possibly do that?

            I can’t come to terms with the fact that I might forget some parts of you. Whoever said it gets easier was wrong because it doesn’t and thirteen years later I still want you here even if you were bitter about life and never made jokes. It just kills me that I’ll never know who you would’ve become. And I’ve been waiting around for you. I still do it even though I understand the reality of death by now. Well, actually I don’t think I’ll ever understand it, but I know that people die everyday and they never come back. The world doesn’t stop, the newspaper still keeps coming and people still laugh like it doesn’t matter to them that you died. They used to make me mad. Like the sound of their laughing was directed at you and in a weird way I’m disappointed that I’ve stopped with all of my habits. I’ve given up in a way, but mostly given up on myself.

            I wonder if you would like my boyfriend. I don’t think you would because you were always so jealous of my male friends and wanted to be the only boy in my life. You are and you always will be don’t worry. We don’t really care too much about each other, this guy and me. Were both just lonely and we’ve both lost someone close to us. So I guess that’s why we can’t care about each other. Nothing’s forever and I wish I would’ve known that before you got taken away from me. When everything was changing around me you were the only one I could count on. I guess I can still count on you, just in a different sort of way.