I miss you. Every single day of every week. I cannot
describe the heart-rending, intensely disabling, crushing pain of being apart
and knowing I can never see you again. Never hear your laugh, never feel your
loving, tender caress, never hear your stories, never be rocked by you to
sweet, blissful sleep, knowing I’m safe. I hate the fact that I could not even
say goodbye, that I had to hear of it, that you went so much before your time.
I cannot stand the fact that you had to suffer so much, you,
the very embodiment of all that is good. I hate the fact that you withered away
into a shell of yourself, a mere ghost of the laughing, happy, witty,
vivacious, strong, loving, brave person you always were to me. I hate the
disease that did that to you, that caused you so much pain, that took the light
out of your eyes, that killed you a million times over before you finally let
go.
I could see, throughout the ordeal, how you were still
trying to be brave for us. You wanted to brush it all off as if it was nothing,
a mere hitch in an otherwise perfect plan. But then there came a time when the
horrid disease broke the strongest spirit I’ve ever known. I remember gritting
my teeth, hoping against hope God would be fair. This amazing person deserved
none of this. This brilliant, saint-like person deserved the very best in life.
But no. God would take the person I loved most away from me, away from the
world, in the worst way possible.
I ask myself why. Every day, through a haze of tears, I ask
myself, and demand of God, why my favourite person. My inspiration in life
could not have done anything to deserve this. No one deserves what the bravest person I knew went through. And
it’s an unstoppable force. You can’t tell it’s coming, you can do nothing to
impede its relentless destruction. And the helplessness is what I can’t forgive
myself for. Even though I come up blank when I ask myself what I could possibly
have done, I can’t forgive myself for doing nothing.
Irrational as that sounds, I wish I could have been there
more. I wish I could have held you, and comforted you, the way you had done
countless times against my childish fears. I wish I could have made you feel
safe, secure in my arms. I wish I could have taken some of your pain away, could
have fought with you against the monster. Above all, I wish I could see you,
just one more time…
