Dearest Unreal and Unforgiving God,
It's three weeks to the day an old friend killed himself and I'm counting the ways I've changed.
My world is still upside down, even though I've stopped crying now I can't stop reimagining life in ways to make it tender again.
I swear, I've held my hand out to everyone I've ever wanted to and it's not enough. I can still feel myself falling so incredibly short.
How do you explain to someone how softly you felt for them while they shivered in your arms, how all their scars seemed to run through your heart, tugging your sleeve towards the direction of "I want to love you more and more until you love yourself."? How do you tell them you wanted to rewrite every suicide note, resign it with "never mind"? I can't began to find the words for "I want you to be happy so bad it keeps me up at night."
And hey God, would it **** you to make a miracle happen every once in a while?
I have wanted to spread the incredible, bursting compassion I felt when he died, that terrible, uncontainable empathy, but how is it that words fall short on everyone except I'm sorry?
I'm trying to touch lives in a way that November 27 will again just be a date. I'm trying to make it all right. I'm trying to be the light that could've lit up the dark and made the world turn again.
As you were taking your last breath I hope you felt this.
After all this, I'm still an atheist