dear elias

Instructions

dear elias, momma told me to move on. she told me that people come and go, and maybe it wasn't time for you to go so quickly, but "people always leave at some point." i think ill miss your voice a lot. is that too cheesy? im not trying to be. poppa told me to stop listening to your voicemail every night before i sleep so i can "move on" quicker. but i dont want to move on. is that too much of a bargain? i think about the stuff you said. a lot. like when you said that there's a difference between dead and dying. that some of us die for twenty, and some of us die for ninety. that we all wake up one day closer to our death and that's just how it works--or the time you said that everyone is technically a walking tragedy because everyone dies at the end. my brother used to call you corny. now, he just sits in my room with me and we talk about you. he says its good that im not trying to move on. they talk about you daily. my parents. they think i cant hear them whispering in their room. they think i can't hear because they shut their door. they ask each other what's wrong with me. momma took away my phone for a few days because she thought it'd make me "better." she gave it back once she realized it didn't do anything. poppa checks on me every night when im sleeping. he worries about me. but if he really cared, he'd try to understand why i just can't will myself to "move on." you know, everything changed when you left. it was quick. too quick. do you think once i share this heavy burden of news that's been weighing me down, ill finally move on? momma said it should. i think she's just hoping ill stop moping around and crying at night. my best friend told me im being dramatic. she sent me a text saying that im just an attention-seeking freak who had no right to cry over someone that died a year ago. i didnt know how to respond, so i ignored her message. but how would she know? she didnt know you like i did. she wasn't there when i wanted someone to cry to. she wasn't there when i hated the world. i think the most horrific thing you've done to me is leaving me. but i know its not your fault. none of it was. i just want you to know, i dont hate you. i never will. i hated the world, but you were the exception. i hated the doctors that pushed me out of your hospital room, how they didn't even let me go in. i hated how gravely the doctor looked at me because that's all i needed to know. you were gone. elias, you will never, ever see this. and i will never, ever see you. i will never be able to see your smile again. i will never be able to hear your voice again. i will never be able to grow old with you. i will never be able to hug you as much as i did on the day you left. i think about you every day. you infect every corner of my mind. i think some parts of my brain are rotting from how much you've been sitting there. my brother got rid of the box with your name on it. you were his best friend. the box was filled with your stuff. i have one, too. im not ever going to throw it out. i visit your grave daily. every morning at eight, i sit outside your grave and i just let everything out. i know you won't reply to me, but maybe you're listening. all this talk about "when are you moving on" and "move on already" is making me tired. i miss you, elias. love you (daily), sophie