Today marks one year since you left us.

It’s so painful knowing that you’ll miss all this life you could have had. It’s painful knowing you left us so abruptly. You were my hero.

I remember our mornings together. You would drink your coffee and I would watch cartoons or play video games in my room with the door open so we could still hang out.

I wish I could have told you the things weighing on my heart. I wish I could find the rose quartz stone we shared. It’s probably in the floor board of my car but I’m too scared to look because what if it’s not there?

I wish I would have asked more questions about your life. I was too concerned with hurting your feelings when it came to asking about your childhood because I know how painful it is now to lose a parent. I often wonder if at 29, the age I’m at now, you struggled with the same things I’m struggling with now. Things like learning to live yourself and put yourself first even when it’s difficult. I often wonder if you ever experienced the kind of lonely that feels chronic and stuck to your skin. Heartbreak is too much for me. It feels like it will never end. I wish you were here so maybe the pain would be cushioned just a little by your presence.

But if it means you’re no longer in pain I wouldn’t bring you back here in this sick world. You’re probably with your parents now and all your siblings you lost. Why would I take you away from them? That would be like dying all over again.

I still haven’t found the crystal yet.