It’s been a while since I talked to you; thought about you. I try not to think about the day you died because I know it was my entire fault. I shouldn’t have worried you that day; I shouldn’t have called. If I hadn’t you wouldn’t have rushed out into the storm and got into an accident. You would still be alive.
I missed you a lot today. I played our favorite song:
I stopped listening to it when you passed away. It hurt too much to listen to the song you dedicated to me and would play it in my ear, every time you would call me. There were times after you passed away, that I would call your phone, hoping I was just dreaming and you’d pick up and say, “Hey Lee-boo!” I always hated that nickname you gave me but now I would give anything to hear you say it again. It’s been so long since you’ve passed, that I don’t remember your voice, your laugh, your face. I really miss you best friend; especially today. Ever since you passed away, my life has gone down hill. A failed marriage, family issues, health issues, money issues — hell, mental issue too. The Asilee you once knew is no more and all that’s left is a shell of her former self; you would be morbid. There is a a few bright parts of my life, though, and I hope they stick around, but with my luck I’m afraid that they won’t.
I have a son now, you would have loved him. People say he looks like me but I don’t see it, maybe because I think I look like a foot and he doesn’t. He’s adorable, very smart and he loves cheese curls. I found that out on his birthday. You would have spoiled him rotten without question. I know this because you spoiled me. I knew you were in-love with me. Your cousin told me at your funeral. I kind of always knew but I didn’t want to make assumptions by asking. Us as a couple though? Nah, I couldn’t see it. You were more like a brother to me than my real brother is and I simply didn’t love you like you loved me; I couldn’t.
I’m so mad at myself because you’re gone and I’m here without my best friend. How did I managed to move on past your death? It feels like a distant memory that’s slowly fading away; I don’t want to forget you but I can’t even remember what you look like. I lost all the pictures I had of you when granny threw all of my things away. I shouldn’t need pictures though, I should be able to remember what you look like without trying.
I remember going to the park, riding bikes, going skating, or simply riding around in your rust bucket of a car. The memories are there, all the times you made me laugh are there, but your face, your voice? They’re gone. Maybe it’s because I’m trying too hard to remember and it will come back. I would give almost anything for you to come back. I miss you.