Play

They say you don't know what you've got until it's gone....they were right.

People die. People you love will die and there's nothing you can do about it. You're helpless. One minute you can be cuddling in the darkness of their bedroom after making love and then they can be dead the minute you turn your back to them, that one second that you let them out of your sight and out of your arms. You wanna know what the worst part is? It's all your fault

I made a promise the night before Ryan Ross died. I made a promise that I could no longer keep. We were gonna come out together. We were gonna tell everyone that we loved each other. We were hoping for the best and expecting the worst. But I couldn't do this alone. I needed Ryan. He was my strength. He was my sunshine.

What would the Earth be like without the sun? Would the birds still sing? Would the moon and stars still shine? No. Earth would be dead. I am Earth. I am dead. I am the birds. I do not sing anymore. I do not speak, but somehow my fingers find the piano keys from time to time and as the months pass by, the aching sound of that piano keeps me breathing as if the C notes were my inhales and the D notes were my exhales. Sometimes my fingers were rapid and the tears would burn and I would feel Ryan there with me, holding me. I wouldn't play for weeks whenever this happened.

My parents began to worry. Why wasn't their talented and beloved son speaking? Why was he not singing in church like he was supposed to? Things got worse after a few months. They grew sick and tired of my mourning. They threatened to send me off to be a missionary, but what good would I be? I'm a boy who won't speak and doesn't believe in God anymore. There can't be a god for what he's done to me.

Yet they insisted that they'd do it, but then a new day begun and a new sun begun to rise. This sun had a name. This name was Dallon Weekes.