We haven't spoken in years.
I'll dream of the child I knew in my youth before the world turned into a cold abyss. I'll stare for hours at a time at pictures of the person I used to know before the blind was pulled from over my eyes. I'll pretend that you had a chance at living longer than you made yourself.
You meant so much to so many people.
I feel like I'm the only one who still cares. I am the only one besides your siblings who still visit your grave. Your parents had to stop going for a few years before they passed on because of how old they became. I'm glad that you never got to see them like that.
Was it really your time?
I know that you were depressed for a long time, maybe even your whole life. I still wish that I could have seen it earlier than I did. I deserved to live a life worth living, a life filled with adventure and exploration and love and miracles.
You made your decision too soon.
I get that things were bad. I still get it to this day, but I have someone worth living for.
So did you.
You could have lived for your niece. You could have lived for your dog. You could have lived for me. You had a great future in sight, and you could have made it out alive.
Only you didn't.
You cut it off too short with a bullet though the rib cage.