Four
years, two months, and three days ago you died. You were completely alone,
nobody stayed with you after you went under. They all just left as the alcohol
slowly poisoned you. I guess I can’t really blame them. It’s taken me all this
time to realize that. They were just kids. 16 and 17 year old children who
didn’t know what had happened.
I haven’t
thought about you in quite some time, but someone shouted your name. It makes me feel guilty when I go for
long periods of time and don’t think about you. The day you died, April 18th, came and went this
year and I was “too busy” to even remember. To think about you and to pray for
your family. I’m moving on, but it feels all wrong. Almost like an insult to
your memory.
I
remember that first year, not a single day went by that I didn’t think about
you. I had nightmares for months about you laying there cold and alone in your
basement. Even when those subsided, something during my day would make me think
of you and miss you. 2011 really wasn’t much different. I thought of you almost
daily! Slowly yet surely though I have started to let you go. I’m sure psychiatrists
would tell me that’s a good thing…but you will ALWAYS be my very first friend,
my first crush, and the boy I married when we were 7 years old. You were and are an
incredible being Perry. I will always miss you and will always love you. One
day I’ll see you again and we can eat hot-dogs and cheetos like when we were
kids and things weren’t so hard.
Love you Perbear.
R
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