Letter #21
May 6th, 2018. 2 a.m.
hey you;
How fitting. Letter 21 when your 21st birthday falls on Monday.
You have been gone for just over 2 years now, and I can’t say it has been easy learning to live without you around. But, I can say i’ve made progress. i can speak about you, and I can tell people I lost you and how I lost you. I can talk about you without tearing up, or bursting into tears completely. And now, I feel like i can be honest with myself when it comes to you.
I’m never gonna see you again and I understand that. It was difficult, struggling between wanting to believe there was something after this life, because I wanted to see you again, but also not believing in an afterlife. I still look for you everywhere, hoping for signs that you’re with me, but I don’t need you to linger with me anymore. Infact, I’ve given myself a rest with looking.
I’m trying to let go of my guilt. Guilt that comes from breaking promises I made while you were here. I felt guilt for not visiting your grave for many months, but now I release that, knowing that I can visit you at home, in my memories. And I think that you’re aware my attempts to quit smoking for you, were ill-fated. I tried, I really did. But I know you never expected me to quit anyways, and you never asked.
Even more so, I’m trying to release my guilt from things I did when you were here. I didn’t stay with you. I downplayed my feelings for you. So many things. I can’t begin, nor should I try, to go through them all.
I will never have what I had with you, with somebody else. I now that one day I’ll have a relationship that is multiple times the amount ours was, but it won’t be what I had with you. I’m okay with that, I’m at peace with that. You filled a part of me that nobody else could. I don’t expect anybody to take your place, nor would I want them to. You were you, and that was the best you could be.
It hurts, knowing that I think about you more than I ever did when you were alive. I guess that stems from the fact I didn’t need to think about you. I was seeing you everyday. I didn’t have to think about you to remember your smile or to miss you. I never missed you or forgot anything about you because I saw you daily. Now though, your negative space appears and I’m scared one day I’ll go all day without thinking about you. The sounds of your voice grows harder to hear, and leaving behind the little details that made you, you, seem inevitable. I no longer remember some of our inside jokes. I talk about you in past tense, no longer trying to keep you in the present.
but on Monday, I will raise a glass for your 21st, and as always, I’ll think of you and I’ll smile. I’ll always remember you, and I’ll keep you in my thoughts.
Love, Sierra.