So Hard to Say

There are a millions ways to tell someone you love them. Through words, it can be said and through actions it can be shown. A million ways and I didn’t use a single one.
Why was it so hard to say?
Now I’m sitting here by your grave, alone and freezing as rain pours down around me. You always enjoyed the rain, I think to myself sadly. Three people have offered me a jacket but I refuse. This cold is my punition, my punishment. I hope that I get sick and die so I can be with you again. Ask any soldier who watched a friend die; it’s never that easy. I want to see you again so I can tell you what I never could say.
Why was it so hard to say?
I stand in silence, trembling and surrounded by an emotion I’m not familiar with. It’s a mix of sorrow and anger and regret. Is there a name for that? The truth is a freight train that slams into my soul. I’ll never hear you laugh again or see your smile. I’ll never steal a drink or a bite of food when it seems like you aren’t paying attention, even though I know you are. I’ll never hear you yelling at me to turn my classical music down while I’m cooking because it’s so loud you can hear it before you even open the door. I’ll never come home to find you watching re-runs of Lost even though you’ve watched it enough to know every line from every episode from every season by heart. I’ll never get to see you get excited again because the new season of one of the dozens of TV shows you watch during the week is coming on next Friday. I’ll never see you sleeping in my bed again because your bed was too far away. I’ll never hear you say “I love you,” as I leave and watch me expectantly, waiting for me to say it back before I close the door.
Why was it so hard to say?
The tears mix with rain and fall onto the freshly displaced dirt. There are a million of them, I’m certain; one for each time I never said it. I can’t find it in me to walk out of this cemetery even though everyone else is leaving. I can’t imagine facing the world alone, without you by my side. I’ll tell anyone who asks that I’m fine, but anyone who knows me-knew us-will know that physically I’m okay, but mentally I’m crumbling like a pile of dust in a windstorm. I can’t imagine waking up tomorrow with your room empty. I can’t imagine my life from this point forward, now that you’re gone. I can’t deal with the fact that I never told you.
Why was it so hard to say?
Now I’m left alone in this world, there’s an emptiness in my heart that can’t be filled. I think I’ll stay here forever, by your grave, trying to will you back to me. I keep hoping I’ll see you come into view, hiding, and everyone will laugh and say it was all a joke. But I know all that blood wasn’t a joke. You’re gone and all I’m left with are memories. But ask anyone who has lost someone. Memories aren’t enough. Memories can’t laugh at something you say or cry when you almost die or get angry when you do something stupid. They can’t slap me and call me retarded for using my Dodge key in your Chevy’s ignition. They can’t encourage me, tell me I’m wrong, or calm me down when I get so pissed I can’t see straight. Memories can’t live a life with me.
Why was it so hard to say?
My breath rushes from my lungs and my knees buckle. I hit the ground as my world seems to shatter around me like glass, taking from my body what energy still remained. Mud encases my jeans but I don’t care. If they would let me, I’d curl up on the dirt that you’re buried under and lay there until I could see you again. Hell, I’d dig you up and lay right beside you, if I could. I would scream at you to wake up and tell you what I never told you in life.
Why was it so hard to say?
A millions laughs that I’ll never hear, a million more smiles I’ll never see. A millions memories we’ll never make and a million breaths you’ll never take. A million tears that will never fall and a million regrets left unresolved. I hate them all, but most of all I hate myself, for the million words I never said.
Why was it so hard to say?
If I believed in God, I might pray to Him, I might beg Him to give you back, I might complain that I didn’t have enough time with you, that 28 years is not nearly enough. I might bargain with Him, trade my life for yours because I can’t imagine life without you. I would bribe Him with my tears to give you back to me, if only so I can tell you how much you mean to me. But no, that’s not how it works. I can curse Him and beg Him and ask nicely of Him, but you aren’t coming back. He’s probably ignoring me and I can’t blame Him. I was a horrible brother and I couldn’t save you when you needed me most. I promised you we’d be alright, but when I watched the light leave your eyes I knew it was a promise I couldn’t keep. As your breath stopped coming, I tried to tell you, but by then I think it was far too late…
Why was it so hard to say?
They always say count your blessings before it’s too late. I thought I’d have more time with you, but now I realize time just wasn’t on our side. I hope I’m wrong, and that God exists. I hope it’s beautiful wherever you are, and I hope you’ll wait for me. I hope that you’ll be watching every step I take and you’ll be there waiting when I get wherever we go when this life is done with us. I hope there is something after this, because there’s something I need to tell you, Nic.
Why was it so hard to say?
I know time’s going to make it harder for me to remember you. I wonder how long it will be before I can’t quite remember where your tattoo or your Kindra is, before I can’t recall how you sounded early in the morning when you first wake up and your accent is thick like mine. I want to scream when I wonder how long it will be before I can’t remember how you smell or how your laugh sounded or what your smile looked like. I can’t breathe when I wonder if and when I’ll forget all the important little things about you. I hope you’ll visit me in my sleep, talk to me in my dreams and help me keep my memories of you alive in my head since you can’t be alive for real. I hope you are happy.
“I love you,” I whisper in Russian. Our language. A tongue sacred to me and you, our own language no one else besides Travis understood.
It wasn’t so hard to say.
I love you. You know that, right, Brother?