I hate posting the stories. It feels like once everyone gets done posting them, you'll really be gone.
I want to know why you did it. I know I won't ever really know, but it'd be nice to know.
I want reassurance that not calling you would've bade a difference.
I haven't been sleeping because of the nightmares. Every time I fall asleep, it's the same nightmare.
The one where I'm there but not really.
The one where I can't stop you at all. I just have to watch.
I almost passed out in a theme park today, thanks to you. I feel bad actually trying to have fun when I haven't really even reached out to any of our friends or even your family.
I got a keychain with your name on it. I can't really justify it, but you liked the beach. I'm not really sure why, I guess I just wanted a reminder of you besides all the other ones I have.
I just want to know why. I've said it before, but I want to say it again because I really don't know what else to say.
I want to be around you and look to see for any kind of trace that I didn't see. I still try to wake up it just doesn't work.
It hurts to know that I won't ever really know.
I want to talk to your mom. I know this is not going to be good for her. I just don't really know what to say, and if I'm being honest, I don't really think I'm in any situation to talk to someone else who's grieving.
You used to say you didn't cry. I wonder if you cried when you knew you were leaving all of us behind. I wonder if you cried when we weren't looking.
Every time I open an app, you're the first person to pop up, and it makes me just want to cry.
I'm trying to make you stay by posting the stories farther apart, so your memory will stay around a little longer.
I won't listen to certain songs because you used to sing them. I won't listen to them unless they're your voice.
It's kind of sunny and rainy here. Guess I'll see your rainbow in a little while.
I used to say I had no idea what my first tattoo would end up being.
It's going to be a ukulele.
You liked playing that. You sang along to whatever song it was, and then you would apologize for your 'emoness'
I posted the last justifiable story today. Maybe it'll help, but I just can't see it helping.
I want you back here so bad it hurts. We were supposed to do the next showing of Charlotte's web together. We were going to have our dream roles of that show.
We should've gotten to know each other more so I could have seen it coming. That's what I'm want to blame it on, at least. I want to say I just didn't know you well enough.
It's not true, and I know it. I just wish it wasn't. I wish I could stop seeing you in people I see in public.
It hurts so bad when I see someone who looks the way you looked and then remember that I still haven't woken up yet.
I want to wake up and ask you why you committed in my nightmare. I'm sick of this. I'm ready for the real Thursday. The one where you're still alive.
I want to see an alternate universe in the future. I want to see what your future would have looked like if you had stayed.
I shouldn't say I know that this wasn't the best path for you because for all I know, you could've been living as a shell of a man. But is anything really worse than suicide?
I want to know if you could've found someone back in New York. Maybe they would've given you your Cinderella story. You most definitely would've left your shoe behind. It just wouldn't have been on accident.
You would've wanted that person to come after you.
I want to hear your interpretation of the movie Up again. Between you and me, it was just a little day trip.
I liked it when you retold stories as if you had actually witnessed them.
I miss running around the theater with you and jumping off the stage and over seats to the Mulan soundtrack.
I miss you.
