Status: Thank you for giving this book a chance!
Until We Meet Again
Letter ; 1
" Don't let me go,
Hold me in your beating heart,
I won't let go,
Forever is not enough. "
～November 2nd～
Remember the black boots? The ones that I begged mom to buy me? I wore them today. They reminded me of you. Not because you bought them, but because you signed them with your name (You wanted me to always remember that you had gotten me those). Johnny also came by, to give his condolences. He even baked me cupcakes. But nothing could lift my mood up. It only made me damper. Because, firstly, those were your favorite cupcakes. And two, you hated Johnny. You never told me why you hated him. I guess we'll never know.
Your girlfriend swung by, she wanted to help us with our packing. Towards the end, when night had dawned upon us, she hugged me tight and told me that everything would be okay. I wanted to say the same to her. But it's hard. It is so damn hard to say something like that. Because, it won't be okay. She knows it, and I know it.
Why did you do it?
Were we not enough? Was depression really clotting your veins like you said in that letter? Was breathing really becoming a chore? Was the pain really suffocating you into an abyss of numbness? I don't understand. And it's ironic. Because I have a degree in psychology. Yet, I never knew.
If I had known, I would have sat down with you to list a hundred reasons on why you should've chosen to live. Why the pain is something you need to battle rather than surrender to. To tell you that your pain is not something defeat-able. That you did not swallow that pain along with your pills, you only passed it on.
I miss you.
And I know that I am late in saying this, but here are a few reasons. A few reasons on why you should have stayed. Why you deserved to live, breathe, and laugh.
~Until We Meet Again。
Hold me in your beating heart,
I won't let go,
Forever is not enough. "
～November 2nd～
Remember the black boots? The ones that I begged mom to buy me? I wore them today. They reminded me of you. Not because you bought them, but because you signed them with your name (You wanted me to always remember that you had gotten me those). Johnny also came by, to give his condolences. He even baked me cupcakes. But nothing could lift my mood up. It only made me damper. Because, firstly, those were your favorite cupcakes. And two, you hated Johnny. You never told me why you hated him. I guess we'll never know.
Your girlfriend swung by, she wanted to help us with our packing. Towards the end, when night had dawned upon us, she hugged me tight and told me that everything would be okay. I wanted to say the same to her. But it's hard. It is so damn hard to say something like that. Because, it won't be okay. She knows it, and I know it.
Why did you do it?
Were we not enough? Was depression really clotting your veins like you said in that letter? Was breathing really becoming a chore? Was the pain really suffocating you into an abyss of numbness? I don't understand. And it's ironic. Because I have a degree in psychology. Yet, I never knew.
If I had known, I would have sat down with you to list a hundred reasons on why you should've chosen to live. Why the pain is something you need to battle rather than surrender to. To tell you that your pain is not something defeat-able. That you did not swallow that pain along with your pills, you only passed it on.
I miss you.
And I know that I am late in saying this, but here are a few reasons. A few reasons on why you should have stayed. Why you deserved to live, breathe, and laugh.
~Until We Meet Again。