The night you died I held my breath in your honor or in anger I can't exactly remember, only a dropping of the gut, the swollen amalgamation of numb and comprehension and more confusion than I have ever swallowed whole before
I hope you cursed yourself when you realized what you did your hand closing is a picture I played a million times in my head your eyes rolling back is one I tried not to but every time my eyelids met I saw yours gasping for air
Your mother, a glass vase splitting on hardwood floor I can promise you she is still stepping on your pieces the truth is I know you never meant to cause damage the breaking is just what happens when so much is left behind
When the rabbi said your name I thought about laughing, how you certainly would be at the seriousness of it all the level of despondence floating in the room the oxygen, thick in its lack of, a density unlike any other
I remembered the time we got high on one of the holiest days of the year I thought maybe this is god playing a joke on us I thought maybe this is just his sick revenge, an attempt at humor but there was nothing funny about your leaving
For the first few months losing you was drowning every night in my sleep and waking up alive the next morning friends asked what it's like to have this gap of almost stretching inside of me I asked if they had ever accidentally touched something hot and to recall how it felt when the burn started setting on their skin
Most days I miss you without trying some days I don't think about you at all there is a life that is full without your being in it but it isn't mine to call my own I am forgetting your laugh like a song whose words I can't remember
Today is your 22nd birthday, facebook had to tell me there are no shots being taken and nobody is making a cake today you would have been another year older I wish you could have stayed to be it
-from the one who loved you
from the perspective of the person who loved him the hardest