It's funny how the weather always knows, huh?
The good days, sunshine, clouds here and there.
It captures the bad days. The rain. Thunder. Almost like the sky cries with you.
I've grown to notice that. Maybe I don't always cry in these situations, but it's always nice to know that when I do, I'm not crying by myself.
Maybe it's all coincidence. I choose to think it knows. It offers a lot of comfort, don't you think?
I feel like that isn't how I should remember the days. The crying of me and the sky. But it is nice to know that it's holding me in its arms.
I'd like to remember the people too. Maybe not in their final acts but in their person.
I want to remember the Cinderella stories. I want to remember why they were told. I want to remember the shows. The lines we laughed at.
I want to remember the backstage moments. The one who I looked for first when I had my first kiss.
I want to remember him as the person who made me laugh while making fun of the woodwind section.
I want to remember the songs. I want to remember all the moments.
I want to remember the days I thought about those times and didn't cry.
I want to remember him as the perfect voice for roles. I want to see him as Bed Head Fred again.
I want him to trick me again. That child was always so invested in my love life.
I'm going back and watching old videos. I want to find something, anything for me to not have picked up on so I can blame myself.
In the end, I know I won't find it. Not because I'm not looking hard enough, no matter how many times I tell myself that, but because there wasn't anything I could have done.
I want to save everyone. It's not possible, but I want it to be. The recordings are comforting, but I want to hear his real laugh. And maybe that's selfish, but I can't help it.
I want to see him again. And the lord knows I will again one day, I just want him here now.
I want to have him blast September on my birthday when we would have been in a show together like he said.
I wish I got to see him in his last show. I want to hug him again. He was always good at that.
I want to see his absolutely ridiculous Elvis glasses again.
I feel selfish with all the 'I wants', but I can't help it. He was supposed to go back to New York.
He was supposed to live.
