Dear Sam,It's day number three. or four. i'm losing count of days
and convulsions of the heart.
but you understand, right? remember when you found out about your friend who passed? and you cried in the middle of campus? i looked at you like a mad woman , did you notice? probably not.
that was so YOU- not to care. and i love you for that.
you always told me the truth, unless of course you were scared of my 'mother-like' death stare.
you always gave the best advice. you knew me better than myself at times, especially with guys.
oh, the guys. our "guys" woes. after woe. woah;
you were always too good for all of them. none of them could have handled your light, the glare.
you were a peacock amongst mere pigeons. we simply were not worthy of your vibrancy.
but sis, im nauseous.
im held in bondage by thoughts of your absence at my wedding, my college graduation, your absence in next week's phone call about life, boys, and God.
im sweating; trying to scratch myself out of this mental imprisonment -
steel bars blocking my concentration
and concrete, heavy moments trying to say the word 'funeral' or refer to you in past tense.
But that's not what this letter is about. It is to let you know that you were among soldiers.
your friends and family are fighters & we will make it through this time.
we will protect your legacy against the fraudulent and time.
Sis, you will never lose love here. Sis, you will always be remembered. here.
and right here.