A Bucket Of Your Heart

Epilogue

I guess people who's always smiling, people who have the biggest smile are the ones who carry the most hurtful problems. It's amazing yet scary how someone can smile so radiantly, to be such a great pretender that we can't see any evidence of pain behind their eyes. 

Or did we really just didn't care to see beyond what can be seen? 

Sadness. Denial. Regret. Hate. Acceptance.

His death broke me. I don't know where to start again. I'll always carry this burden, every day of my life. I won't be able to move on from him. 

I didn't believe it at first. Who would? He was just seventeen. He had a great life ahead of him. Why did he give up? He was my source of courage and happiness. Did he seriously think that I would be okay, knowing that he's not around anymore? That I wouldn't be able to hug him or feel his arms around my shoulders? Or to hear him laugh and sing?

If only I could turn back time. I was drowning with my own problems that I didn't notice he was also in the same state, but he chose to save me. We could have saved each other together. If only I asked him. If only I had the courage. If only I pestered him to tell me about his problems. 

I hate myself so much. Was I that selfish? Everytime I'm with him, he's always smiling and would try to make me laugh every moment. It's so excruciating to think about the beatings he got in his own home. He didn't deserve that. No one does. 

Earlier today was the burial of Clyde Jimenez. My parents  took care of all the process. My friends from school came and also the people Clyde was working with from the amusement park. Everyone gave their eulogy, but I couldn't. It was hard to say goodbye. I cried the whole day. I didn't care if my eyes were too sore or if I was too pitiful. 

Now I'm looking at his belongings. They said it was better to give them to me than throwing it away. I'm at the place where we first met, my room. Imagine how hard it was for me to sleep. Everything reminds me of him. I couldn't stop crying when we got home. I cried myself to my sleep. I was angry at the world. My parents even had to cradle me in their arms. 

I sobbed the moment I saw his things after I removed the cover of the box. The first thing that caught my attention was his two shoes. The worn off Adidas and the one I gave him for his birthday. The crocs I gave him when we went to the beach was also there. It squeezed my heart. Memories came flushing in my mind. 

The second item I caught was the necklace I gave him. I looked up at the ceiling, gasping for air. I can't do this anymore. I'm so tired of crying. The endless grieving I always feel every second. 

Next was a hoodie. I clutched it against my chest while my tears left marks on it. It smelled just like him. Sweet yet painful. 

The last thing tore me apart. It was the journal I gave him. Blood stains were visible. God. My hands were shaking as I took it outside the box. 

I squeezed my eyes shut. It was so hard to imagine his situation. When he was being beaten to death or when he was shot with a gun. I stared at it for too long, trying to find the braveness in me. I wasn't brave but I know for sure he would say otherwise. 

The very time I'd open this journal, is a sign that he really is dead. That I'm ready to say goodbye and accept everything that has happened. 

With a heavy heart, I decided to turn it to the first page. It was a drawing of me. When we were at the rooftop. I quickly closed the notebook. It was just the first page and I couldn't take it anymore. 

He's become a part of my life. Howㅡ How can I continue with my life knowing he's gone? 

I giggled when I saw a drawing of me, making an annoyed face on the next page.