I told them you died. Honestly, I did. It didn’t seem necessary; how could thinking, breathing human beings with all five senses intact miss the coldness of the shell you left behind? It didn’t make sense, having to tell them something so obvious. I really tried though. For you. Maybe if they know you’re dead, they can bring you back.
I know you’re gone because I know what it feels like to be missing a piece of me now; you took it with you, wherever you went. I’d like to think you’re someplace nice, preserved in the heart of time, finally at peace. And that’s okay, really. I understand why you had to leave. This world was too much for you from the very beginning… you weren’t ready for the way it would relentlessly break you down, force you into becoming something we couldn’t blame you for turning into. Of course it won. Of course you’re gone. I want that piece back (that hole can’t be filled by anything else, you see), but I forgot to reclaim it before you left, if there was ever a way to.
…Your friends are acting just like you did in your last hours, you know. Maybe they’ve caught your disease. They’re telling me the most ridiculous lies. They say I’m wrong. They say you’re alive.
Unless they’re sick too, why would they say that?
They keep pointing out this person, this person who possesses features devilishly similar to yours, saying he’s you. You have to help me understand, because if you were here I know you’d be able to help me understand… how could they even compare this person to you? Same height, same build, sure, but your friends, your true friends, should know better. This person doesn’t have your smile. He doesn’t move or laugh or even speak the way you do.
And he doesn’t recognize me.
I would know you if you were alive; I would recognize you in all forms, in this life, in the next fifty. So I know they can’t possibly be telling the truth. All they need to do is look. Why aren’t they looking?
If you can hear me, know that I know the truth. They won’t ever get me to believe that you’re still here; I watched you leave myself, frozen into a place that wouldn’t let me say goodbye; I felt that hole open up, I know the frigidity of a heart stopped too soon.
Let me mourn peacefully.
Make them stop lying to me.
