Dear Brian,
Two years ago today, Brian, you left this earth forever.
You laughed your last laugh
You thought your last thought
You spoke your last word
You smiled your last smile
You gave your last hug
You breathed your last breath
You lived your last day
The light from your eyes left you as you left us
Two years ago today, Brian, you had a choice and you made the wrong one.
I want to scream at you and shake some sense into you, but it would all be in vain.
Had you been given the chance, again, I don't believe you would have done anything differently. You died the way you lived and it is only now that I can say for the very first time that I am mad at you. I wish you would have been more responsible. I wish you would have gone home with Shawn. Even at thirty one you still thought you were invincible. We didn't have enough time, none of us, had enough time with you. You and I were finally getting past our past and I feel robbed of the opportunity to really know you. For too long I blamed God for taking that time away. I blamed Him for not letting any of us, your family, say goodbye to you and for taking away your future, but I wonder if that was really His choice. Did He look at what your life would be like after the accident, had you lived, and decide it was better to take you now rather than later? Was it His plan all along to take you when He did? Or, did He take your life only after you put into motion the events that led to your death. All I am left with are memories of you and questions; so many questions that haunt me and wake me from my sleep. My memories of you are not the best and I can't blame myself entirely for that, it always takes two people to engage in an argument and you and I were never ones to back down. I guess in that way we were very much alike.
My brother, my family, my almost friend. My heart breaks just a little every time I think of you for even though I am mad at you, I still love you and I'm not even certain you knew that deep down beyond the facade I loved you. Did I ever tell you that I loved you, because I can't remember? Did I say those words out loud or only in my head? Did you love me? Did you ever tell me that you loved me? I wish I knew...
People say that time heals, but it doesn't. I may cry a little less, but only because I don't have the strength to cry anymore. It hurts to cry and it is so hard to stop crying over you once I start. I may think of you a little less, but only because thinking of you every day makes me sad. I may blame you a little less, but only because to blame you or God or circumstances or whatever it was that led to you no longer being here is to hold on to something I can no longer hold on to. The sorrow I feel of losing you as a part of our physical family is something that will remain until I see you again, but I still have to live this life here. I have to wake up each day and go on until I am called home. I can no longer feel guilty if I don't think of you every single day or if I can't really remember the sound of your voice. I have to let that go and be thankful for the good things I can remember about you how ever few they may be. I have to let go, but I am struggling and I need you to tell me that it's okay. I need you to help me let pieces of you that I am hanging on to go. I want to be at peace with you dying but I need you to tell me you're fine, you're okay and you're happy. Knowing you're at peace will help me find peace. Can you help me with this?
Love always,
Alison
