Teenage Wasteland {hood a.u.}

Chapter 18- Me Without You

Monday, August 26th, 2013

Dear Dallas,

I don’t know what brought me here. I don’t even know how I got here. I’m really fucking sorry. That’s all I can really say… I’m sorry. The last time I was here was with mom and dad. It was like last year, I think. I just couldn’t get myself to come here. I couldn’t accept the fact that you’re not coming back. It hurts me to say this. But, I know that there’s no way that you’re coming back. It makes me physically sick to think that I have to live the rest of my life without you.

Here I am, staring at the grey marble of your grave. It’s smooth, I brought flowers too. I brought you some roses, I don’t know what kind of flowers your supposed to bring… I’m sorry. I honestly don’t know why I’m here. But, I stopped at home- my old home- before coming here. I really fucking miss you Dallas. It shouldn’t have been you who died, it should’ve been me. Maybe if I was the twin who was born second then it could have been me who is five feet underground. Maybe, if you were born first I wouldn’t have to bear through this pain.

You don’t understand, Dallas. I don’t really have anyone. I know how bad it is for me to say that, but I don’t. I have no family. Grandpa basically doesn’t want me anymore, ever since everything happened with Grandma. I think everyone hates me. No one wants me anymore. Maybe that’s why I’m staring blankly at your grave, maybe that’s the reason why I’m here.

I can’t think of a legitimate reason to why I’m sitting on this grass staring at your name that is engraved upon the tomb.

“Rest In Peace,

Dallas Matthew Crawford.

You will always remain in our hearts. You were the best brother, son, and person that there was. You’re in a better place now.

May 17th 1996- October 23rd 2009.”

I miss you greatly. I fucking need you Dallas. You weren’t here for me when I went through hell. Why couldn’t you have just held out a little longer? There’s no point in being mad at someone who’s dead. If I was dead, would anyone be mad at me any longer?

I have Calum. I’m sure he will get sick of me soon, though. Everyone gets sick of me every now and then. I will give him a month before he gets sick of me.

Is that why you stopped fighting? Is that why you stopped trying to beat your cancer? Was it because of me? I’m really sorry Dallas. I didn’t mean for this to happen to you. If I could’ve switched places with you, I would have. You know that, Dallas. Right?

I don’t know how I made it this long without you. I’m proud of myself, if I’m going to be honest. But, now I have Calum. He’s made me the happiest I’ve ever been, you know, without you…

Remember what we did when we found out that you had cancer? I still reminisce upon the days when I could still see your face. We would stay up late, talking about what we wanted to do in our futures. I miss our sleepovers. Remember when I would knock on your door when I was having a nightmare? You were always there for me. You would always walk me down to the kitchen and we would just sit there drinking hot chocolate and discussing why I was so scared. You would tell me how scared you were of losing me, but in reality I was more scared of losing you. You know that I would always be there with you, no matter where you ended up. I know that you weren’t going to heaven, nor were you going to hell. I honestly don’t know where you went. I know that we both don’t believe in afterlife, but I hope that wherever you are, that you are happy and safe.

Remember how we used to go to the park after the sun had set? We would sit on top of the monkey bars. You would tell me what you wanted to do when you were older and I told you that all I wanted to be when I was older was happy. You told me to stop being sappy and to stop quoting John Lennon. I think you always knew that I wasn’t right in the head. I wonder why you didn’t tell me. Did you want me to figure it out on my own?

I’m sorry if you can’t really read this entry. I honestly don’t know what I’m doing with myself at this point. I’m sorry if my salty tears are drowning the letters that I have written upon this page. I’m sorry that I’m overly mushy and sappy in this entry.

I’m currently sitting pretzel styled in front of your grave, with my earbuds plugged into my phone. I probably look like a mess right now. I didn’t really think of anything before I came here. It definitely wasn’t my best decision to wear eyeliner and mascara.

Remember one of our last conversations we had before you passed? One of the last conversations that we carried before it was the last time that I heard your voice.

Oh your voice, I miss your soothing voice. I miss your calming voice. You would be able to talk me out of my panic attacks. Now I have Calum to do that. He’s not replacing you, I promise. No one could ever replace my only brother. Calum is more significant than a brother. I think I might love him.

Seriously though… Do you remember one of the last conversations that we had? You were lying peacefully in your hospital bed when I walked in. I knew that this was definitely one of the last times that I would be able to see you, alive and breathing. At the time, I definitely didn’t want to admit that to myself. You were my rock. You told me to take the seat that was next to your bed, so I did. You told me how you wanted me to follow my dreams. You told me that you wanted me to be happy even after you left. I understood what you meant, but I couldn’t accept it. I was around 13. How would you have felt if you were being told to continue your life after your twin dies? I feel as if twins are closer than any other siblings. Maybe it’s because we are practically the same person. I don’t know. But I remember that after you told me that, you continued to tell me that my life would continue and that I couldn’t hold on to the past. It was hard, Dallas. If I’m going to be completely honest with you. I don’t even know if I have completely carried on with my life. It’s been a rough three years-- almost four.

You told me that if I ever needed a little reminder of you, to listen to In My Life by The Beatles. You told me that it was our song. I’m sure if anyone else found out that it was our song, they would think it’s weird. But I don’t think it’s that weird considering how close we were. You sang our song to me. I can’t listen to this song without crying. If you’re wondering, yes I am listening to it right now. This was mom’s favorite song, you know?

I probably look like such a mess right now. Hysterically crying while writing in a journal. I’m wearing one of your shirts--yes I know much you’d hate that but I am. I’m wearing one of your old tattered up Beatles shirts. It makes me feel home again. But so does wearing Calum’s clothes. Is that weird?

I wonder what you’d look like now. I’d do anything to see you smiling again. You’d do anything to make anyone smile, that was your persona. I wish I was more like you. I know mom and dad did too. If I was more like you, maybe our parents would have actually liked me.

I can’t be here anymore. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing to myself anymore. Calum doesn’t deserve this. He deserves someone so much better than me. I know that. He doesn’t believe that. He thinks that we’re both kind of fucked up, and that’s why we’re good for eachother. But I can’t seem to think of anything that is wrong with him. I know there are millions of things that are wrong with me, but I can’t seem to come up with any that are wrong with him.

Maybe it’s just me, I don’t know. I can’t think straight right now. It’s getting harder to breathe. I should leave.

I need someone to pick me up, I’m not stable enough to take the cab back to Rae’s. I’m sorry that my visiting ended up like this. It’s my fault. It’s always my fault.

Whenever I am with you I have a panic attack. This time, I just can’t hear your voice. I need someone who will be able to calm me down. The only person who is alive that can do this? Calum.

I don’t know why I just did this. I don’t know why I texted him. He’s probably getting sick of me, I shouldn’t have texted him to pick me up. I’m scared and worried and he was all that I could think of. I think I’m going to pass out.

I texted him, “i need you.” I need you too, Dallas. Don’t get me wrong. But, I need him more. Before I relapse.

Love,

Jasey