I can’t fucking believe you’re gone.
You were my big bro. My rock.
You were supposed to give me away at my wedding. Now I never want to get married because that was YOUR job.
God fucking damn it, Alex. Why did you have to drink so much? You have no idea what you did to mom. You have no idea how much we all miss you and how much we’re crying. You have no idea how much you meant to me, to us, to Kelly, to the whole fucking world.
She literally just sent me a text as I was typing this asking me to make sure a lock of your hair was cut off your body before your cremation, because that was all she’d have of you. And not to wash your clothes. I remember taking home my boyfriends shirt so that I could have his smell for a few nights. I can’t even begin to imagine how desperately she needs that. How many pieces her heart will break into once she loses that smell.
I’m not angry with you at all. I just wish there was something that I could have done to stop it. I wish I wasn’t so nice to you the other day on skype when you told me that you were “just sick” (for three fucking weeks) and when I tried to inquire more into the subject you told me to back the fuck off.
I know you were so goddamn miserable over there. And that makes it so much worse. I should have called you more. I should have skyped with you more, what the fuck was I doing? Nothing. No job. No school. But I couldn’t console my lonely lost brother who was stuck in a godforsaken country and needed me. I’m so sorry. I love you so much and I’ll miss you forever.
I’ll see you on the other side.