Today is grandmother's birthday. I have to watch her deteriorate at an exceedingly quickening pace as more days pass without you here. To watch another human being fall apart and live with no life left in them is more excruciating than if it were happening inside of me. She refers to you as her baby boy, although you were nothing short of a man. 28 years old, decorated in art from your neck to your toes. But nonetheless, you wore battle scars in the form of collapsed veins and sleepy eyes as if you never got enough sleep. You were My JD, mine, JD. When I think about you, I am left with a hole the size of the Pacific Ocean in my chest, which is truly appropriate because I drown in your name. If you could walk into grandmother's house, you would probably drop dead again. Her entire property has become a shrine to your existence, photos are overwhelming the premises enough to the point where you could walk into a maze of JD. Grandmother has not removed your sweatshirt except to bathe. Although she would still wear it in the shower if she did not fear to lose your smell. Sometimes I catch her close her eyes and breathe in what's left of you when she holds the cloth to her nose. Grandmother is smoking again. Nicotine and tobacco smoke kills the taste buds on the tongue, but she tastes you every time she drags in because you, JD, are everything she is. Mother gave up her dreams to take care of Grandmother, Mother dropped out of art school with a full scholarship because her only art was the life of Grandmother. And you, JD, were selfishly stealing the life from Grandmother that Mother worked so endlessly to retrieve. Now, I am not accusing you of being a bad man, JD, I know too much of you to know you as a bad man. You were intelligent beyond belief, knowledge swarmed in your brain and I think that's why you were always so sad. The ****** was to **** the things inside of you. The methamphetamine was to **** the things inside of you. The alcohol was to **** the things inside of you. All I wanted to do was to bring those things back to life because you saw them as a burden instead of the gift that you could harness and control. You were a good man, you made bad choices, but you were never a bad man. You have been the only man to make me feel like a princess with just a smile. JD. I saw you in my dreams, and you smiled like you knew the whole universe's secrets and I believe maybe you did because you are up there in the stars. When I saw you for the very last time, I kissed your cheek and cried. My JD, you are still the only man capable of making me feel like a princess and prisoner all at the same time. Grandmother has shut off your phone so the texts I have been sending you daily are not delivering and soon someone will have your phone number and those texts will be sent to someone undeserving of your 10 digits, digits as in numbers or fingers? Either way, no one was ever good enough to hold your hand other than mine. I was never ashamed of you. I hope you know that because the last time I saw you breathing, I'm not sure if I told you any of this. I am unsure if I told you I loved you, but if there was any way to fill this Pacific Ocean raging in my chest, I would hope it would be because you visited me in my sleep for the rest of time. I would settle for never dreaming of another boy as long as you held my hand in my dreams.