You missed the first snow today. I remember when you used to wrestle the Vo Tech kids in the snow and put snow down the back of my neck on the bus, or touch my cheek with the back of your cold (yet warm, very alive) hand. I remember how you would laugh and smile then. Back then it reached your eyes. And you would get off the bus and start pelting your brothers.
I wonder if where you are there is beauty. I hope you made it to the beautiful place; I hope I will see you again, but I am unsure. Sometimes I doubt. I wonder what the dark place feels like. I know God has mercy, but I also know you had to choose. I know depression had your mind in its grip, had you believing lies and half truths. I know you knew truth. We talked about it so many times.
I facebooked the lyrics to a song you liked before you chose death. Technically it was a status, but really it was to you. We talked through lyrics like that. “Dreamer, child, be cautious of this world. She has an appetite for boys and girls, and she’s hungry for your soul.” I told you that your ending yourself was what the darkness wanted. It wasn’t an end to the pain as it seemed, but an embracing of pain forever. It was closing the door to hope.
I see the darkness reaching out for the others now. It wants to suffocate them too. But what Satan meant for evil…your death is driving some of them to find truth. But the darkness fights for them all that much harder then, afraid they’ll be lost to freedom and light. Maybe they shall be. I hope.
You are ever in my mind. Things come back…memories, words that I had forgotten. Oh so many memories. Occasionally I still catch myself thinking of something to tell you, only to realize that I can’t . Your family is lost without you. You never realized how many lives you touched, though I tried to convince you. “This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.”
You had great flaws, had many weaknesses. I cannot begin to count how many times I backhanded you for swearing…But I loved you. Love covers over a multitude of sins. I was attached to you, and I still am, only now you aren’t here, and there is ever always this empty ache of something missing. I don’t want that ache to ever go away.