believe me, i have cursed your name a million times. i have spat your name like a bitter candy stuck in my throat for what felt like decades. there is something so freeing about thinking about you and realizing that the buzz in my chest is a growing resentment instead of the usual yearning. but whatever happened between the days of your departure and the day of mine is something i wish had occurred two years earlier. i wish i had handled the grief of losing you better.
but, oh, my sweet, sweet boy, i would rather bang my head against the wall than forget about you. i would rather jump from the highest mountain than escape the ghost of you. i think i can still feel you sometimes, whispering in my ear, warming me up at night. i refuse to regret even the tiniest part of you that i have touched— and that i can remember.
i hope the moon reaches you even in your darkest nights.















