To The Friend And Sister Who Died Too Young

Most days I find myself thinking about you. When I’m laying in bed, when I’m sitting down, when I’m walking. I’ll catch a peek of my shadow and that’s when it starts. I start to think that it’s you that should be right here. I start to glance at your timeline, wondering when you will make another status, even though I know that will never happen again. I go through all the pictures we took with each other when we were younger, I think about how I regret not taking pictures with you when you asked, or even not letting you upload it to Facebook. I glance at the wall where your signature is. I go through all the pictures I have of us.

Every day I think about the ambitions and dreams you shared with me. I think about the future you wanted. How we talked about university and how close you were to finishing high school. How excited you were to move in with my older sister and me.

Right now it’s windy and cloudy as I write this letter to you. I pounder what you would’ve accomplished. I remember the tears we shed together, the laughs, all the sleepless nights we spent together. If I could replay those days, I would. I would every chance I got.

I remember everything, From the very first time I laid eyes on you. You were young, just a couple days old. All wrapped up in your small blanket. I remember looking at you and smiling. Because I knew that I would look out for you, I would be there for you. Then I got to hold you.

I remember the very last time I saw you, the last conversation we had all the way down to the last smile we shared. I remember everything in-between. All 16 years of it.

Some days I get angry, angry at myself. I get angry at the god of this world and everything he controls. Maybe it’s because I am incapable of coming to terms on why you were taken from us so early in your life. It’s like going through hell; it holds me down. It’s not fair, because you had so many more pages to fill in your story. Now the family will never be able to see you in your grad dress, we’ll never see you get your diploma, chase your dreams and ambitions. We’ll never see you have your own family.

But some days, when it’s the right time or the right day. When the sun or moon hits the ground just right, I feel as though I can still talk to you. I feel as though you are right here with me, listening to every word I’m saying. Comforting me when I’m sad.

That’s when I can cope with the fact that you’re gone. That’s when I learn to move on, but to never forget. That’s when I remember to hold onto the memories (good or bad) as tightly as I can.

That’s when I remember the impact you had on me, that I had the pleasure of knowing you. That I have never been so proud of you. This is when I realize that I am proud to call you both my friend and sister. That’s when I know I love you so much.

And someday, we’ll meet again.