An open letter for an angel, Julius,
My favorite pic of us, our first drink session and we were drunk, especially you. This memory, a bliss. I hope you’re reading this. No wait, I know you’re reading this because you’re there, up in the sky and you’re probably bored, for you’re not here and even though you couldn’t forget your sadness, you still knew that we were there, it’s not everything you hoped for, that could heal you, but it still is something. Kyla and I were something, huh? I couldn’t perfectly stitch up your heart, but I put a band-aid to it, I guess as long as it’s beating, then you’re fine. I couldn’t put together your lungs, I asked you to stop smoking instead, I guess as long as you’re breathing, then you’re fine. But your heart didn’t just skipped a beat, it stopped. And you didn’t just held your breath, it ran out of air. You couldn’t even stay just for my birthday. You couldn’t wait. You should’ve been with me at the beach, watching the sunset side by side.
No wait, you’re here. In my heart. So, I knew you were also there at the beach, watching the sunset, side by side. And you’re my angel, and I know you couldn’t sleep whenever I go home late. That’s why I still text you, saying that I’m home, just like our old hard drinking times, huh?
It’s been months, Ju, my 2018 started with writing a eulogy. If you wanted me to write for you, you should’ve just asked for a cute poem, a song, birthday greeting or something, you shouldn’t have let the noose trap your neck. But still, I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve messaged you first. I don’t want to forget. I will never forget.
