I'm thinking about you again today.
I think about you every day to be honest.
I just got through reading a long post your mom made to you.
It breaks my heart that you'll never get to read it.
You'll never get to see how much you were truly loved.
I go to your facebook page every other day as well.
I don't even use facebook anymore,
but I guess there's a part of me that still hopes it's all a dream,
and that one day I'll go on your page,
and it will no be a memorial page.
The pictures that read "Rest In Peace" will be gone.
Your last message to us wouldn't be there.
Instead you'd have posted something funny,
or replied to one of your friends dumb posts.
I still hope that you'll message me back,
and I'll come home to my husband laughing at something you said.
But I know it won't happen.
Deep down inside,
I know you're gone.
But it's just not fair.
It's not right.
You should be here with us.
You should still be laughing,
and smiling,
and breathing.
Your mom shouldn't have to miss her first born.
Your dad shouldn't have to drive your truck to feel close to you.
Your siblings shouldn't have to know life without their big brother.
I just don't get it.
I know you were hurting...
but it's like your hurting never went away.
Like a nasty parasite,
your pain latched onto everyone who loved you,
the minute your soul left this earth.
None of us will ever be the same again.
June the first was when you turned our world upside down.
We've been feeling the shockwave ever since,
and I don't think that feeling will ever leave us.
We miss you Ivan.
I just wish you could see how much we miss you...

June the first...
About thirty minutes after 9 AM.
I got the call.
I remember not allowing myself to believe you'd leave.
I messaged your Facebook,
telling you how much I cared about you.
I reminded you that we needed you to stay,
so you had to keep fighting.
I remember feeling so on edge that day,
but still not letting myself let go of that hope.
I believed so strongly that you'd breathe on your own again.
The next day,
All of us were on pins and needles.
Your mother was posting pictures of you,
strangers in states you'd never even been were praying for you.
Then 3:07 came.
You took your very last breath.
You took a part of us with you.
I cried so hard that I didn't think I would ever stop.
I wanted to scream at you...
but I also just wanted to hear your voice again.
I wanted to wake up,
only for someone to tell me it was just a horrible nightmare.
But I couldn't.
This was reality.
You were gone.
And the worst part of you leaving,
was the fact that I didn't know where you went.
Could you still hear me when I talked to you?
Were you watching over us?
Or were you too far away now.
Or were you even around at all anymore.
Were you simply just gone?!
I questioned everything after you left.
But eventually I had to come to terms with something.
That something was that you were not here.
No matter where you were or weren't,
you would not be HERE again.
I wouldn't see you or hear you again,
except for in my dreams where I pleaded for you to tell me why...
the one's where you smiled and refuse to answer.
I had to start letting go.
Once I started to let go,
I began to see things clearly again.
The pain of losing you was still there,
and I know it will never leave,
but it wasn't keeping me from living anymore.
I decided I couldn't let you go in vain.
I had to start living a life you'd be proud of instead.
So here I am...
Almost four months later,
on this rainy day,
thinking about how much I miss your dumb jokes.
Thinking about how happy I am that I got to know you.
I still wonder where you are,
but I just hope it's somewhere beautiful.