30 Days Without Him

Day 20

Today I woke up with someone at the door. My parents and brothers had already left the house, and the person knocking was very persistent, to the point in which I had no choice but get out of bed and open the stupid door.

Not really caring about the way I looked, I dragged myself to the door to see who was the idiot disturbing my precious sleep.

Do I even need to say who the asshole was? Guess we all know it was Ryan.

The first words out of his mouth were I thought you were dead. Subtle, no?

I was about to close the door, since he clearly realized I was still alive, but he put his foot to stop it from slamming.

He then told me to get dressed that he was going to take me somewhere. As I clearly did not have a choice, I told him to wait in the living room while I went to change.

Once I was dressed and decent enough for the world to see me, Ryan and I left my house.

I was surprised we didn't enter his car, but he said that it would be nice to have a long walk, and since the temperature wasn't boiling hot, I didn't mind.

It took me about 10 minutes in absolute silence to realize where we were going. And once I did, I stopped dead in my tracks and started going back to my house.

I wasn't ready for what Ryan had planned. No fucking way. Yes I was a bit happier latley, but I couldn't go there.

Ryan realized what I was doing and held my arm before I could go anywhere.

He then assured me that I had to go, and that if it got too much for me to handle we would go back. He also told me that it was necessary for me to do it, in order to be "fine".

It took us another 5 minutes, Ryan didn't let go of my hand once, to reach the final destination.

The cemetary. I hadn't been here since the ceremony, but I knew exactly where you were.

Ryan gave me one more reassuring look, and asked me if I needed privacy. Strangely enough, I didn't want him to leave me alone. I needed him with me. He was comforting in an odd way.

The closer I got to your grave, the more nervous I got. Ryan kept doing soothing patterns on my hand with his thumb and telling me it would be okay.

Once we reached it, he traced my tears (which I hadn't realized were falling) with his thumb, as if acknowledging my pain, but not wanting to make it go away. Instead, wanting to make me face it and heal from it.

I just spetn a good 30 minutes staring at the words written on your grave.

Along with your full name (sorry but your middle name was also included) there was 1998-2015, loving and caring brother, son, and friend.

1998-2015 . That is such a short lifespan. You barely did anything you wanted to. At least you didn't die a virgin. I remember that it was your greatest fear you fucking idiot. At the memory of the first time you told me that, I broke into a small smile and I couldn't stop the words from coming out of my mouth.

I miss you.
Why couldn't this all be part of a sick joke?
Why do you really need to be gone?
How could you do this?

Ryan stood by me from the instant the tears became unbearable until I started to laugh quietly of all of the memories we shared.

Because of that, I started respecting Ryan more than he could ever imagine. And I do not want to be alone anymore.