Letter to Jack

Dear Jack,

I've been missing you, my love, I wish you would come back to me.

It has been 6 months since I lost you that terrible night. The night the rain poured down so furiously as if it was angry that you died like I was. For me, the rain has yet to stop, it moves like a wraith above my head, carrying the never ending sadness and pain from that night that will never subside. I will never really get over your death and I know that for certain.

Writing these letters has been my way of coping for a long while now, the thing keeping me alive you could say. It makes me feel like you are still here with me. Sometimes I swear I can feel your presence but when I turn around in hopes of seeing your smiling face just inches from mine, I see darkness. A never ending darkness. It is all I have seen ever since you died, leaving me alone with my thoughts to eat me away. You know what happens when you leave me alone with my thoughts for too long, Jack. I crack and right now I'm seconds away from shattering into millions of little pieces with no one to put me back together. How could you do this? Why did you have to go?

It could have been easily avoided if I hadn't asked you to go get me something from the corner store, all I wanted was a simple snack yet I got a dead boyfriend instead. How nice. You crossed the street, the chips you bought for me in hand, when the truck came bolting through the intersection. Straight towards your unaware state of mind. That is what witnesses said had happened.

Drunk driver is what they say got you in the end, the fucking idiot. When they called me up to tell me you were gone I lost it. I broke down and did all the things you saved me from before. I cut until the tiles were stained red and I drunk until I passed out. The guys found me and I wouldn't talk to them, I wouldn't talk to anybody really. The band broke up, I couldn't imagine being on that stage without you constantly making dick jokes and snide remarks every time I said something. I couldn't even think about having another guitar player in your place or ever being happy enough to get in front of a crowd again.

Zack, Rian, and everyone else wanted me to go to therapy to get my head straight, they even suggested I go to rehab but I never did. What was the point in getting better? They forced me to one session but I didn't talk, I just sat there until my time was up because nobody could fix me. There was no point in telling this lady my problems.

The day of your funeral, when I went into the church to see your battered up body on full display, I held your cold limp hand in mine as tight as I could as I sobbed over your casket. When the time came for everyone to be seated and the casket to be closed forever I didn't want to let go. This was the last time I would ever see you in person so I took one last look at you. Your eyes were shut as if you were sleeping and there were many cuts and bruises all over you yet you still looked beautiful. Your lips showed no emotion but I could just imagine your cute smiling face to replace it. Your hair was done up like you usually did it, I gave the undertaker a picture to give to the stylist so they would get it just right. I ruffled your hair from the last time, placed a kiss on your hand, and whispered;

"I love you," before Zack had to unlatch me from you.

I didn't give a eulogy, I couldn't bring myself to write one and I would probably just break down again. Everyone understood why I couldn't.

After the funeral came the numbness, I couldn't cry anymore but I also couldn't smile. I couldn't do anything really so I just sat in the room that used to be me and yours but now was only mine. I wouldn't even consider it mine now to be honest, I have grown accustomed to sleeping on the couch because of the smell of you lingering in the room. Whenever I would go in there I would tear up as soon as the scent filled my nose so I locked the door and threw away the key. Of course the rest of the house smelled like you at first too but eventually that faded.

All the pictures I have of you are faced down because looking at all the happy times we had hurt too much because I knew we could never share them again. Sometimes I would lift them up just to peek so I wouldn't forget your face and I would always end up crying and screaming for you to come back.

Everyone worried about me. My parents and your parents called frequently which was odd, I thought I would be calling your parents to make sure they were okay not them calling me. Rian and Zack would stop by my apartment to check up on me and I would always force a smile and say I was fine when I really was crying my eyes out inside. They all knew something was up though and would constantly bug me about it but I would just push them away. Pushing people away was the only thing I knew how to do anymore.

I wanted to die so badly but then I wondered if you could hear me. I wondered if you were watching over me. I wondered if you were there with me this whole time. I couldn't know for sure, of course, so started writing these letters and placing them at your grave everyday, in hopes you could read them from the stars or wherever you are. Writing these letters to you helped me cope for a while and made it feel like you were here with me. Sometimes the letters would be long and detailed, sometimes short and sweet. Whenever I sat by your grave I swear I felt someone sitting and leaning their head on my shoulder next to me or wrapping their arms around me. But that could been just my mind playing tricks on me.

For six months I have been dealing the best I can. For six months I've been suffering. For six months I've been on the edge of suicide. Every night after I visit your grave I drink myself into oblivion or push a blade hard against my thigh to numb the pain. It's never enough though, I just want the pain to be gone for good. I've been holding on for too long, Jack. I want to come be with you now, wherever you may be.

I would do anything for you Jack but I've let go of the edge now and I'm falling. And when you fall there's always an impact when you hit the bottom.

I'll be with you soon, I love you.

~ Alex

I folded up the letter placed it into my back pocket with 'Put on Jack's Grave' messily scrawled on the back so whoever finds me can put it there after I'm gone. I took a deep breath and gripped the paper bag in my hand tightly as I made my way to Jack's bedroom door. I pulled out an extra key I had found when I planned this all out and unlocked the door. I was immediately hit with the strong smell of him and the tears started to fill my eyes. My eyes scanned over all of Jack's belongings that hadn't been touched ever since he died, dust layering everything. Jack's boner t-shirts were messily folded on top of the dresser and his guitar sat in the very corner of the room, untouched. I swept my fingers over the strings which were horribly out of tune and made a terrible sound.

Tears were streaming down my face at this point.

This was it.

I shakily opened the paper bag and pulled out the shiny .45 ACP handgun. The bag fell to the floor and I rose the gun to my head. I closed my eyes tightly and squeezed the trigger.

At first it was all black, nothingness. I was scared I did something wrong and stupidly missed somehow but then I saw a light. A bright light like the one at the end of a tunnel. I ran as fast as I could and I saw the familiar figure come into view as I got closer. The light was too bright to make out his face but his hair gave it away instantly, done up like the last time I saw him.

The closer I got the more of the man's face I could make out until I was in his arms, holding on to Jack as if if I let go he would disappear.

"I can't believe it! I've missed you so much, Jack. I love you, don't leave again." I cried into his white shirt.

"I've missed you too babe, and I can assure you I won't ever leave you again, I love you too much." Jack smiled, "Now come on let's go home."

And hand in hand with Jack I walked into the bright light to vast unknown but I wasn't afraid not knowing what was on the other side, as long as I had Jack I was fine.

I was more than fine, I was perfect.