Its been years since you left us. I still can't believe it. One moment, you were here, the other you're gone. At first, to be honest, I couldn't accept it. Everything that happened to you- I just couldn't believe any of it.
I got the call while I was at work. It was your sister. She was crying. At first it was inaudible, I couldn't understand what she was saying. But when I got it, everything went dark for me. You died, she said. She asked me to go to the hospital you were confined in. I went. You had already been transferred to the morgue. Your siblings and your mother were there. Your brother was outside the room, clasping his head with his hands, as if trying to stop all sounds from entering his ears. He didn't want to hear his sister wail. When I entered the room, I saw your sister hugging your mangled body. She was trying her hardest to stop crying, but that just made my heart feel heavier. I was trying not to cry. I was trying my best not to look at your body, because I knew it would make me faint. In the corner of the room was your mother. She was pale, as if her soul had left her body. She made no sound. She was breathing softly, staring blankly. Then she finally noticed me. When our eyes met, tears suddenly rushed down her eyes. Still, she did not move a muscle. I rushed towards her and hugged her tight- yet she didn't say anything. It was the hardest part; seeing your mother, who was so bubbly, the literal personifcation of sunlight, be reduced to an empty shell. She was the happiest person I knew; I could tell that your innocent and bright smile came from her. I used to admire her happy disposition, but seeing her in this state broke my heart. I hugged her tight, Not just to comfort her, but to comfort myself as well. I didn't wanna see you like this. I was not ready. I didn't want to look, But I knew I had to. So I did.
When I looked at your body, it broke me. I heard what happened to you, I knew that it would be bad, but not this bad. You didn't deserve this. You of all people didn't deserve this. You shouldn't have saved that kid. You should've just watched him die. You just didn't deserve this. Even until now, I still believe so.
You didn't deserve it because you were the kindest person I ever knew. You worked really hard to give your family a good life. At a very young age, you finished college and started working as soon as you graduated. You gave a huge part of your salary to your parents to help them pay for your siblings' studies. You paid for the house, the bills, and saved for your parent's retirement. I knew how much you worked hard; I knew how much you loved them, and how you didn't really care for yourself, instead doing your best to provide for your family. I still remember that day I bought you new pairs of shoes because you wouldn't buy new ones for yourself. You had kept buying things for your family only. Clothes, food, stuff that you weren't able to afford before. You just said "Nah, I can still use these shoes, if I always wear black socks, the slit at the side of the shoe wouldn't be noticeable." I understood that you loved your family so much, but you didn't have to go that far- that's what I thought before. I thought you only did that for your family until I found out you were saving money for our future too.
Haha, if there was an award for people who excelled at saving money, it should go to you. I didn't know, until I received a letter from the bank, about the joint account you opened for us. I didn't know that you were able to save that much. I didn't know that you were that serious with marrying me. That your promise of forever was something you took to heart. John, you were too good for this world. Too good for me.
Ah, I remember the harrowing days of your funeral. People came and went. A lot of people visited you, cried for you. I found it funny that these people expressed how much you meant to them, but all I could remember were the times you were lonely, and when you called yourself friendless, and that I was your best and only friend. I didn't know at the time whether I should be mad at them, laugh at them, or just ignore them wholly. The least I did do was scoff at them.
Your mother who was motionless and speechless at the morgue was still speechless and pale, simply staring outside the window. It was just me and your siblings, who were still minors, who took care of everything until your father went home. I still remember vividly, to this day, what your father did on the first day of your funeral. Your father who was working overseas, went straight from the airport to your funeral, still carrying his bags with him. When he saw the casket you were in, he started tearing up. He walked slowly, as if trying to delay the time he had to see his eldest son lying in the casket. It took minutes for him to reach you. He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it. I knew that in his mind, he was trying to deny what happened. So he asked someone to open the casket. To see your face. To make sure it was you. We tried to stop him. Your siblings as well. Your mother, however, didn't say anything- as if she was not there. Still pale, still not speaking.
Your father's wish was granted. One of the staff members from the funeral home opened it for your dad. I didn't dare look again. I retreated to the back of the room, waiting for your dad to finish looking at you. When he saw you, he started wailing. It was the most horrible sound I ever heard- a father, crying his heart out. Against the advisory of the staff of the funeral homes, he hugged you tight while weeping. I couldn't describe the face your father made, for my eyes were filled with tears as well.
It was the worst days of my life, Love. In the cemetery, where you were going to be buried, a lot of people gathered. People who called themselves your friends, relatives, and even people who wanted to comfort your family- a lot of them visited on your last day. At that sight, I started to wonder why you would always say you were alone; that you didn't have friends.
Your mother who hadn't spoken for a week said to me. "Thank you." Then she started crying. She let all her tears out. All the feelings she had been bottling up, they were all released that day. Your father hugged her tight. He was looking at the sky, trying not to cry, but I still saw the tears rushing down.
That was your last day with us. It's been years, and John, I still love you so much. I still remember the plans we had for the future. Where we would be wed, for instance. You weren't really a religious person, but you honored my request to be wed in a church. You even came up with a list of churches and made me choose where I wanted to get married. We planned to travel the world together, that we would have dogs instead of kids, that we would have a nice house with a backyard where our dogs could run around. We were working hard for that future. It still hurts, to be honest. You left me so soon. I didn't even get the chance to tell you that our plans to not a child didn't push through. You left us so soon. It still hurts.
But that's life, and everyone has moved on, John. Your siblings finished college and both of them are doing well. Both your parents have already retired and your siblings are providing for them. They are living a good life; it might not be complete, as you have left them, but they are living well.
As for me... I haven't really moved on. I still love you so much, and that will not change. I still believe that a day will come, even though impossible in this lifetime, that our family will be complete.
I love you, John. I hope you're happy wherever you are. We are happy right now. Don't worry about us.
I love you.
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