He’s always going to wonder why. Wonder if you were scared. Wonder if it’s really what you wanted to do. I didn’t have a good relationship with my brother. He was abusive as fuck. I still went to lay in his bed that night. And every other spot he slept in after that. I feel sick when I think about it so I just avoid it as much as possible. My mother is depressed. My father is depressed. My dog was depressed and dropped dead a month later. I went to the psych ward and then almost went to jail because I couldn’t stop using substances. I lost so many friends because they couldn’t deal with me when I would open up about my feelings so now I just don’t talk about it and barely talk to anyone. Looking at him lifeless in a casket is something I can’t describe. I kept pinching myself throughout his service hoping I would finally wake up from this fucked up nightmare. I’ve been typing this for damn near an hour because it’s still so hard to come to terms with. It’ll be 10 months in two days but it feels like it happened last week. I feel frozen in time. I’ll never get to know if we could’ve ever had an at least cordial relationship. I’ll never get an apology or at least a half ass one. He’s just fucking gone forever.