The easy thing here would probably be to accept this and move on. It doesn't feel right, though. Honestly, with the way my heart has been the last couple of years, I figured all my siblings, biological or not, would outlive me.
I wasn't prepared to ever attend a funeral for someone I considered a sibling. I want to be able to accept it, but I can't. It feels wrong to be able to do anything now. I hate that I can.
I hate that it's even possible for me to think about this after years of thinking I'd never have to.
I don't know how to explain the fact that he hangs around me a lot even now, but he's just kind of there. I can hear him. I can feel his presence sometimes. Like just the happy go lucky atmosphere about him. I just never see him.
I can hear his ukulele, too, sometimes.
I'm really worried that I'm hallucinating, but at the same time, I can't bring myself to care. It feels right to have him around.
I don't want to accept that he actually did it. I really don't believe it. There's a part of ne that knows he did, but it's overpowered by the majority of me saying that he didn't do it.
Instead, it all feels surreal. It's just not something that could have happened. It feels impossible. Maybe that's why I still hear him.
You know what else? One thing I can't do and haven't been able to do since he did it is read my own work. I can't do it without wanting to throw up. Because to me, all it is is a reminder. I wouldn't have started writing this if it wasn't for the situation. I can't read my own words.
When I was little, most of the older folks I knew would tell me that the easy path wasn't always the right path. It seems like the older I get, the more I understand that.
I wish it was, though.
I wish life was easy.
Because I can't help but think, maybe if life was easier, he would still be here.
