Broken Halos

This really isn't a story, more of I need to get this off my chest.

On January 5, 2018 is exactly 9 months you've left us, it also happens, that January 5 is my birthday. It saddens me every day that I don't get to see you or talk to you. It leaves a dark space in my heart that will never regain the glowing bright red it used to be.

17 years we've had together, it would have been 18 this year. We were inseparable since day one, I was four, you were 5 and we just clicked. You always said how you remember what I was wearing which means so much more now, than ever. Pooh Bear corduroy overalls and a white shirt. I can't remember what you were wearing that day, which makes me feel like a shitty friend but I'll never forget that day, it was one of the best days of my life. It's an understatement if I told people we were best friends, we were sisters. We did everything together; hell you even came to Florida with my whole family in grade 7!

Times changed, as do people, and I never realized how hard it was for you to grow up and go to high school. I always looked up to you, being the one who stuck out, who was so smart, athletic, that you would just click with everyone you met because you had so many wonderful qualities. I guess it wasn't that easy for you though; and I wish you would have told me that because I might have been able to help.

It started to go down hill when you started dating "he who shall not be named" and it wasn't a gradual walk down a hill on a sunny day, it was a full on mud slide in the middle of a rain storm; that got out of control too fast. I remember the first time you told me that you had started to inject yourself; I was in grade 10, sitting in yearbook class on the computer and you just happened to be on Facebook that day and we started chatting and one thing led to another and I felt my heart drop when you told me because for once in my life, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to help you and that is what gets me every time I think about everything from the beginning. Here's my best friend, spiraling out of control and I can't do anything but talk to you. I had so many questions that were never answered and I still do.

I never blame you for anything that happened because I'm a biased asshole but also because I truthfully believe that if you knew how to ask for help or reach out to talk to someone then you might still be here... "He who shall not be named" got you into a lot of bad life choices and showed you a dark world that I bet you didn't even know existed until you met him. I hate to say it but I don't really blame him either as much as I want to so badly because he was raised in that world. He didn't even have a chance, he wasn't raised in the world you were and I think he really loved you but he is so broken, mentally and emotionally, that he couldn't properly show you how love really felt. Where as you came from a world where family meant dinners on Sunday, eating at the table together every night, camping trips, and shopping sprees before the start of the school year. He didn't get those luxuries but I can't speak for him because I don't really know about his life life I do yours.

Countless nights I'd drive downtown in hopes that I'd see you on the street and just pick you up and drive for hours and talk about everything we missed out on together. Subconsciously, I knew you'd probably never do that because you weren't worried about me, or anything but your next fix but I didn't care, I just wanted you back so bad.

April 5, 2017 was the day I dreaded for 6 years. I never thought you would leave us. I've always had extremely high hopes that you'd get better. I don't even believe in "God" but for 6 years I prayed for you. I prayed with everything I had that you'd be okay. I was so naïve to think you'd die. You were the strongest person I knew, having been through hell for 6 years. I remember this day so vividly because I was having a "Thirty-One" party and I was bringing the Pizza inside and I saw your mom walk around the corner of your house crying and I threw the pizza on the ground, ran up to her and hugged her. Honestly, what else was I supposed to do? I tried so hard not to cry, and I'm crying now while writing this because that day was the worst day of my life. I had to pull myself together and walk in my house like everything was ok and host this stupid party that I now didn't want to have, I wanted to tell everyone to go home but I couldn't. It really hasn't sunk in still for some reason that you're gone because we had never really seen each other for about a year but I catch myself thinking about you sometimes out of nowhere; I could be at work, home, driving, it doesn't matter and I can't explain what I feel because part of me is happy that you're ok now and part of me is still SO angry and filled with hate because it really fucking hurt and I can't even tell you that!

April 11, 2017 was the day I had to dress in black. I didn't even want to dress in black because you used to be full of life, and I wanted people to remember that, but I was still so mad and sad that all I could do was dress in black because that's how I felt... I had to stand outside of the door with your name above it for a while because I couldn't go in just yet. I needed a moment to pull myself together and not cry because I knew that your family was there and that they would be crying and I didn't want to show them how upset I was. I'd rather console them in their time of mourning than them console me. April 11, 2017 was the first day I ever hugged your dad. I could see in his eyes how upset he was. I had to hug him, I couldn't help myself. 17 years of practically being nonbiological siblings, your parents treating me as their kid, and my parents doing the same to you. It was like seeing my own dad crying over me if I died and that broke my heart...

I still don't believe in "God" but I still pray and talk to you as if you're sitting beside me. Sometimes It feels like I can feel you around me. I see tiger lilies, and I think of you, Izzy plays soccer so I think of you, every time I see a book I think of you, I go camping and I think of you, I dream about you; which I've been told as you visiting me and checking up on me and I never want those dreams to end. I wish they would just last forever. Sometimes, I wish I could join you in the sky watching over everyone together, catching up, hanging out like old times; but I could never do that to my family because I know how they felt when you passed and I couldn't put them through that.

Every time I see someone who is going through what you went through, I feel like this strange obligation to help. Like, I need to save a life because I couldn't save yours and I don't want anyone else to feel like I do. Feeling empty inside sometimes is the worst feeling imaginable and I'd never wish it upon anyone.

I think it's time for me to end this because I'm too emotional to keep going but I will continue to write about you... I need to, to keep my sanity. Just please know that I've never actually thanked you for what you've done for me. I've never tried drugs, I'm too scared. I now know what to do if anyone is in your situation and needs help because even though you had a rough go for 6 years, and the worst possible things in life have happened to you, you've helped a lot of people and I don't really think you have ever noticed that before but I hope you do now that you're in a better place.