You Did Not Deserve To Die

Most of the time, I can deal with your death. I can hold back the tears and accept that you are are gone.

I force myself to believe the cliche words that get thrown around, about how only the good die young and how God takes His favorites first. About how it was your time and how everything happens for a reason.

However, sometimes, that silver linings attitude fades away and all that I can simply feel is anger. All that I can feel is hurt and all that I can feel is confusion .. Emptiness and the cobstant feelibg of being lost.

Brian, I am sorry that I cannot be strong all of the time. Brian, I am sorry that there are days when I even question my faith. Brian, I am dorry that there are days when I absolutely hate the entire world and every single person inside of it. Brian I am sorry that there are days when I am bitter about the way that life has turned out.

Brian, I am sorry that I cannot walk around with un-flinching hope when I know just how shitty that this world is. Brian I am sorry that. am not perfect. And brian I am sorry that I am carrying so much damn anger and sadness inside of me.

Brian I am pissed, because you left your mom and your sister behind. Brian You left people who still needed your love, who still needed your voice, who still needed your hugs, who still needed your kisses. Brina People who cared about you more than they even cared about themselves. Brian People who would do anything to have even just one more minute with you.

I’m pissed, because I keep seeing these shitty people running around without a care in the world, living for decades longer than you had the chance to. Because the goodness in your heart should have earned you more days, months, years.

I’m pissed, because you deserved better. You deserved to celebrate more milestones. You deserved to see the people around you grow up. You deserved to grow old yourself and pass away peacefully in your sleep after ninety years of living your best life.

I’m pissed, because it’s not fair. That sounds whiny to say, childish, but it’s the truth. What happened to you wasn’t fair. What happened to your family wasn’t fair. Nothing about your death was fair.

I miss you. And I hate that I miss you, because I shouldn’t have to. I should be able to call you up. I should be able to knock on your door. I should be able to see you face-to-face anytime I want.

You should still be here, right now, sending me texts to ask how I’ve been doing. You should still be here, right now, giving me a reason to laugh instead of cry. You should still be here, right now, alive and well.

No matter how many cliches are thrown at me about how only the good die young, no matter how many of those sayings I choose to believe to find some semblance of comfort, I will always believe that your death was bullshit.

I will always believe that there was some sort of mistake, that you didn’t deserve it.

I will always believe that you deserved so much more.