SOLACE (condensed version)

Epilogue

Andy,

I'm sorry that I didn't keep my promise – you didn't get to read what I'd written, not all of it. I wish you'd had the chance to, though. The effort to keep going, keep writing, keep breathing, has been torturous without you.

I've done this for you. All of this is for you. It has been a rollercoaster of a journey, writing this. I've laughed as I reflected on our memories, I've cried as if I were experiencing our pain firsthand all over again.

This is us, our story, and now that it's written down, it will never die. Part of us will remain in this world for many years to come, and that brings me solace.

Even now, years later, you're still my best friend. Nothing is going to change that; whether you're on this earth or not.

Even now, years later, I think of you every day; every single day, without fail. I dream of you, and wake up with my arms stretched out, tears on my cheeks, and pain in my heart.

Even now, years later, you're the only person I have allowed to have seen me, the whole me, without any fear; because I always knew that you would love me anyway.

Even now, years later, you give me a purpose. And I listen to our song multiple times a day, the beautiful yet fucked up soundtrack of our lives. It brings me strength.

Even in the dark of night, even in the lowest light, even as the world outside, is spinning, and spinning.

I miss you.

And the pain of missing you almost kills me, every single moment of every day, the grief overwhelms me and brings me to my knees.

Every day.

Despite breaking my promise – I hope I'm making you proud, wherever you are. And I hope when it's my time to go, you'll be there to greet me, no matter how much time has passed.

I love you, and I miss you. I always will.

Until I can find you again,

Lex