Half a Heart

dear jack,

this is real. it's reality.

your funeral was today. there was a lot of people in attendance, half of them i'd never seen before in my whole time of being friends with you. i'm pretty sure you don't know who half of them are, either. they were sobbing, blowing their noses and pretending like they knew a single thing about you. said you were a great guy, didn't deserve to die so young. i agree with them. but that doesn't make what they're saying okay. because they didn't even fucking know you to be able to say that you were a great guy. people came up to me. asked why i was smiling. why i wasn't crying. i told them that you've always said things like how you'd never want people to be sad at your funeral, that you wanted everyone to know that no matter where you were – you were probably having a great time. they gave me weird looks then they asked me who i was.

i've always been proud, but in that moment i'd never been prouder to call you my fiancé.

to the moon and back,
alex