Hopelessly Devoted - Bradley Will Simpson.

Letter Three.

Bradley;

There’s times I think you’ll still come back. Times I think you’ll burst through the door and sweep me up, as you used to. Cradled in your arms, snuggled against your chest, though involuntarily as we were both the same height, there’s nowhere I’d rather have been. There’s times I think you’ll still walk into the room and your smile will brighten everyone’s day. Especially mine. Remember how the boys used to joke you ‘melted the ice queen’ my love? Because you found me in amongst the darkness, and brightened my life in more ways than are imaginable. You found me in my darkest hour, and replaced it with years of happiness. You found me, and made me… whole.

All cut apart in a day. A miscalculation. It wasn’t you, we believe, me and the boys. Judging by the wound, the seeping hole in the middle of your chest where my head used to lay, it wasn’t a purposeful wound. It wasn’t meant to be this way, my darling Bradley. The tests, they read inconclusive. We, deep down, know better. It’s funny, you always used to put things off on the grounds something might go wrong if you went straight away. Cruel, cruel irony.

Yesterday, someone came around to the house to see how we were coping, three months on. Truth is, my love, none of us are. Again, I had to have the boys’ full support. Connor sat in front of us on the floor, whilst James and Tristan again each held one of my hands. The gist was, my dear, they’re reopening your case that they told us before was sealed airtight, never to be touched again. Connor’s head in front of us was bobbing all the time, he was again the first to let emotions get the better of him. I buried my face in James’ shoulder, trying to keep as much of the false sense of paralysis of the emotions broadcasted to those around us as possible, whilst he rested his head on mine and also let go of the welling of tears that were always building. I kept one of my hands with Tristan, and it wasn’t long before transparent dots dropped onto it, we were all gone now. You, my love, had the biggest influence on anyone. You’re inexplicable, irreplaceable, unreachable.

Following the visit, we each escaped to our rooms, not wanting each other to see us cry. Although it had happened a thousand times before regardless. Repeating past actions, I can hear Tristan not holding back in the adjoining room, and I can hear James’ and Connor’s teary heartfelt conversations from the corridor. Me, I found myself perched on the end of our bed, looking down at the picture of us again, focusing on every aspect of your angelic face. Focusing on the way your hand intertwined perfectly with mine, and the genuine smile you caused to spread across my lips whenever I was in your presence. I’d never have that pleasure again.

Wrapped up in the gleeful times we shared over the times, I found myself walking into someone’s room, seeking companionship. Completely platonic, if even that. I needed to know I had a source of support somewhere along the line, in amongst the seemingly never-ending low blows. I found myself being slowly rocked back and forth whilst tears streamed constant and helplessly down my cheeks and landed on his shirt. Your best friend, as you used to tell me all the time, is the best one to have in a crisis. You used to say, my love, he gives the best hugs, and can calm you down, even in your sub-conscious. You know what, my darling? You’re right.

There’s only so long I can sit here and be babied. There’s only so long the boys can repeat the same soothing sounds to me when in reality they’re as broken as I am. You’re forever embedded in my thoughts, my love, and the memory of you still strong, your touch a ghost around my hands.

As you would want me to, my love. I’ve made up my mind.

Three months ago you died, there’s no escaping that. Three months ago I and the boys were left to fight this ridiculous unpleasantry with no support from anyone. Now, my darling Bradley, is the time for action.

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