Which means it's been about 18 months since the accident.
Today is hard.
So tired. So so tired...
It was a hard night. Work had not gone as well as planned, which is all part of life, I know. But man, sometimes people are just heartless.
I stared at his picture.
I don't know why I did it. But I started typing him a message on his wall. Maybe I just needed to get things out of me, vent my frustrations. For whatever reason, I just wanted to talk to my brother. I wanted to talk to him about being married. I wanted to talk about work. I wanted to know what he's been up to. Can he still play basketball in heaven? Or date? Or do gymnastics? I just wanted to have a conversation, like we used to.
Mostly though, I wanted to know his secret.
How was it he was always so happy?
How did you do it, Keegs?
I typed and typed. I typed until I couldn't anymore. I told him everything I was feeling. I wrote it like a letter. I finished and stared.
It's not like he's going to read this.
I know it's been 18 months. I know it's been a while. But when it's you, it doesn't matter how much time has passed. The feeling will sometimes last longer than desired. Sometimes, it kicks you in the gut.
I wanted to send it in a private message.
There wasn't any option of that.
I deleted the message.