How’s it going on up there? Today it’s been three years since you left me and a whole lot of other souls down here, grieving the mess you were. This day has become a day I dread and each time it comes around I remember our fights, our arguments in the days just before it happened.
I still remember the phone call from you mum, at 2 am over here, when she called me to say that you had passed on.I still remember and feel the shock and anguish and pain. I can almost hear the phone that slipped right out of my hands onto the table.I remember feeling like I’d lost a part of myself that day. I remember it all.
Memories about you have become so selective, I tend to hold on to the good times rather than the bad. All our fights seems so useless and pointless and meaningless now, and I just want you back more than anything.
I miss you unbelievably and there are so many things that happen in my life that constantly remind me of you, or make me want to come home and call you and tell you everything. This sweet feeling of euphoria that passes through me, this excitement of sharing my happiness with yours disappears within seconds when the heart breaking reality sweeps in. You won’t be able to reply. I won’t hear you voice be as excited as I am. Won’t hear you mimic my baby voice, to annoy me. Won’t hear you tease me about just how much of a romantic sap I’m being and that hurts.
I guess the 3 years have made the rawness of the whole ordeal a little more dim, for even though there is a sharp pang in my heart, I managed to get through today quite happily. Drowned myself with work, so I wouldn’t have to think about you too much.
I’m trying just like you asked me, to move on and to take my happy memories of you and help them to make me stronger,but sometimes I wish I had no memories of you at all. I wish I could just forget you ever existed, it would make it simpler for me. But those thoughts are removed within seconds as I hear you in my head, giving me that stern face, telling me that I was no coward. Telling me that my strength was something I controlled, that I controlled what would and would not affect me.
So here I am today, understanding that even though this day will always be a day I dread, I can choose to not let it overwhelm me. I can choose to make this day instead be a day I allow myself to proudly remember what an amazing person I had the privilege of calling my best friend.
I wonder if you can see me from wherever you are, and if you’re still laughing at my naivety and stupidity at times. If you still swoon when you see just how madly in love I am. If you still smile and frown at the same time when I put someone else before myself.
You were the type of person I admired to be.
I’m older than you now and I still don’t understand how you managed to be as mature as you were at this age.How you had such an amazing ease to life and the things it threw at you, because I am still a hectic mess.
You were a good person and my idol.
I looked up to you far to often and if I’m being honest for a long time, I was wholly dependent on you for my survival. Coming to India helped change that, but none the less, your death still left a gaping hole in my life. One which I don’t think will ever be filled.
I miss you.
I love you.
I hope you’re proud of who I am.
I hope you’re proud of who I will be.