Class of 2015

I'm not going to what would have been your graduation.

I'm sorry.

Mom told me that they're going to be calling your name.

I know it's a nice thought, but it's more to make them feel like they're doing something nice, I think.

I know they have good intentions. I just don't want to go sit in a room where you should be.

It's just a room full of kids who still have dreams and time. It's a room full of parents who are happy.

I don't want to sit there and see all of the potential you could have had.

You aren't here anymore.

I"m sorry, Boy. I know I should honor you by going, but I don't see the point.

It's just a celebration, and I don't have a reason to celebrate.

Going there without you is unimaginable to me.

I don't want to sit with people who may never understand.

I don't want to be surrounded by people who don't really care.

I don't want to sit there while your name is called: creating an awkward and sad silence, drawing attention to your absence from people who never even realized you were gone, or forgot soon after you left.

I think Dad wants to go.

I'm sorry I'm not going, Boy.

I just can't. I can't handle seeing what should have been.

I'm still so proud of everything you have accomplished.

Love you, Robby.

I will never not love you, Robby.

You will always be my brother.

I can't tell you that enough.

I wish I was with you.

See you soon.

I love you.

Always.

Love,

Sis.

Death would be a relief.

Sometimes I want to die. I miss you so much, Robby.

I look at your face and it takes my breath away. I look at words that you wrote and my heart stops.

I miss you. I can't believe that I live in a world in which you don't exist.
I can't believe that my brother is a spirit.

Two years later, it still seems so unreal. It feels like a dream.
I miss you. I can't tell you that enough.

I feel like I have my back against a wall all day. I spend all day supporting this wall. It's a wall that keeps my tears at bay. There's only so long that I can keep it up. Some days I can't stop the floods of tears. Some days are very hard days.

There are days that are so good, but all my days begin and end with you.

Thoughts of your face. Thoughts of your words. Thoughts of your life and thoughts of watching you die.

There are days that are bad. My first and last thought and every thought in between are of you. They are days when I can't escape from your memory.

Some days I look at your face and I think of how good it would feel to die. I think of how good it would feel to feel nothing at all anymore. I want to die. I think of how it would feel to leave this sad world behind me so I could run away with you. I never thought I would live my life partly wishing I would die. I'm not afraid of death. I look forward to it. I look forward to not being sad anymore. I'm scared by my thoughts. I'm scared of myself.

I want so badly to live my life. I want to live it well and create joy. I want children. I want a happy life, but I'm also ready to leave it behind. This world is so cruel and imperfect.

Ever since you left, things have fallen apart. Mom and Dad are sad. I see them laugh, but I know they are sad most of all. Every time we get in the car together feels wrong. It feels incomplete. We feel your absence like heavy weights on our chest. You fill every room with your memory. We love thinking about you. It makes us happy, but it makes us more sad than we ever thought possible. We all know that we want to be together here on earth, but we all know that what we're not saying to each other is that we wish we were all dead. We would be happy to welcome a fast death for the whole family. I don't tell Mom and Dad this. None of us ever vocalize those thoughts. I know we all have them though.

I think of taking a gun to my head, Robby. I think of that when I look at your face. I'm not even scared when I think about it. It would all happen so fast. I think of how fast and wonderful it would be to die. There are little moments when I want nothing more than to end all of my thoughts.

But I know those thoughts are wrong. I know that when I die isn't up to me. I know that Mom and Dad couldn't make it if they lost another kid. But it doesn't stop me from thinking about it.

You left a mess behind. I don't blame you. It wasn't up to you. I envy you though. I wish God had picked me. I wish that I didn't have to deal with looking at Mom and Dad. I wish I didn't have to be the one left alone, but that's selfish thinking. Maybe that's why I was the one left behind. You were less selfish than I am, and maybe that's why God took you home.

I miss you, Boy. I miss you more than words could ever describe.

I'm so grateful that God has given us a way to be together.
But our time on earth could never have been enough. I love you, Boy.

I want to be close, close to Your side

So Heaven is real and death is a lie

I want to hear voices of angels above

Singing as one