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.