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Five Hundred and Seventy-Eight Days...

Missing You...

Five hundred and seventy-eight days...

That's how many days my mind has wondered.

How many memories have flashed through my head.

That's how many days my heart has had this empty void.

How many times I've felt this empty weight in my chest.

That's how many days my life has re shattered.

How many mornings I had to wake up and remember this isn't just a terrible dream.

That's how many days I had to learn to live a life I never thought I would have to, a life without you.

Five hundred and seventy-eight days is a long time, but to me, it still feels like yesterday...

The pain still feels fresh in my soul.

I can still hear your voice.

I swear I have seen your face in the crowds...I do a double take...

My heart re-breaks.

I remember your goofy laugh...I cry.

I reminisce all the good times...I smile with tears in my eyes.

I think about you every day.

I love to talk about you, I always will.

But you see, I do this thing when I speak of you. I say things like, "My brother is a marine, stationed out in California" "He always tells me I'm the middle child so I don't count" "My brother is a goofball" or "Oh, he's two years younger but we always get told we look like twins..." You see that thing I do? I talk about you in the present. Because even though I can no longer see you with my eyes open, I know you're still around.. And I know I cannot accept the fact that you're no longer visible on this earth. But you're here. I know you are.

Over these last five hundred and seventy-eight days, I realized how much I hate when people say, "It'll get easier" or "The good ones go too soon" all those stupid fucking cliches. They piss me off. This isn't getting easier, living without my best friend. It never will. I'll always miss you. I'll always think about you. Especially this time of year. The holidays, you know. It's hard to sit around family, see little parts of you in all of them. I see you in mom's eyes, in dad's goofy sense of humor, in Aysia's sarcasm. It fucking hurts. Every time someone throws one of those stupid cliches my way I want nothing more than to throat punch them. I know you would approve of that. "Fucking nailed it, boys!" But instead, I hold back the tears. Stand tall, shoulders back, fake a smile and continue my day. It's hard. A real fucking struggle if you ask me.

Five hundred and seventy-eight days...

In those days, my heart has shattered over and over again... My chest has become so heavy, yet empty. Even though you left this world, you taught me so much... And continue day in and day out to teach me more. You taught me how to be strong. You taught me to face my fears. To make something of myself.

Because of you, I am here, where I am in life. This is for you, I want to make you proud. Even though most days I struggle to get out of bed and face yet another day without you, I do it. You help me, even if you don't know it. I busted my ass in these last five hundred and seventy-eight days to get to where I am.

Thank you for being the best brother a girl could ever dream of having. The best friend anyone would be lucky to have.

I love you forever, I'll always miss you.

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