‘If I’m not back this time tomorrow - carry on, carry on. Cause nothing really matters.’
As my car radio shifts to a piano interlude, my thoughts shift to you. We always leave a mark on the people we leave behind. I wish I could go back and tell you that things do matter. You mattered.
No, I can do better than that. Cliche.
Thinking about you makes me ache, your memory still bring tears now and again.
I’m still only going halfway. I can do better.
My baby sister brought you up in conversation this week. She remembers you as her friend that died, but she doesn’t really understand why or how. She just knows that you were sick for a long time and then she woke up one morning, and you were gone. When will she learn the truth? Will I have to tell her someday, years from now?
This life isn’t just any way the wind blows. Even if you say it doesn’t really matter to you, it does matter. It matters to me, to my baby sister, and deep down it matters to you too. It bothers me so much that your eternity is so uncertain to me. My stomach is full of lead when I think about the wasted time I spent around you, I should have tried harder. I shouldn’t have settled for the cliches of weather and how are things around the house? I shouldn’t have gone only halfway with you.
I can do better. I will do better.
I just wish I could’ve done better for you.
