Each passing day it’s getting harder and harder to keep that promise.

I miss you like the desert misses the rain. It’s such a dead world without you. People are so fickle. They pretend to tolerate one another for while they’re around each other, then bicker about the thorn in each others eye moments later. I try battling my own thoughts, but it doesn’t help, at the end of the day it still lingers. I have to hope that if I were to break the promise, that you would forgive me, and that you could forgive me for even considering it. I’ve never broken a promise to you though, and I never lied to you.

I had a dream about you last night, we were on a back porch, I don’t know where. You had your hair up, and you were wearing an outfit I’d never seen before, but it was all you. You looked at me, with a smile on your face, and then I noticed, there were no more scars. You were radiant. You were happy. I looked at myself and the scars were still there. I was not radient, but I was happy to see you. I try not to entertain vivid thoughts which appear for moments that seem less than a second, but it still happens, even if only for a shorter fraction of time. I’m barely making it, but I’m making it.

I’ve stayed commited, the cuts are healing, my thighs are still scabby, and taking off pants really sucks, but my arm is doing great, outside of some dark lines and a small gash, you would have never known if you just glanced. The deep one opened up again, but it’s closing, slowly but surely. I’ve eaten, and only when I have to, and only as much as needed, and I’m keeping it down. I switched to a raw vegan diet, I told you I was going to. They want me to wear bright colors tomorrow, as they lay your body to rest, I don’t feel like it, but I’m being respectful. I’m trying to understand where they’re coming from, your mom helped a lot with that, she’s been so strong, strong enough to even pull me through, I felt so weak in this moment, but she’s so tender hearted, and iron willed. I don’t understand some things, like how everyone has this “he took one of ours so let’s take all he thought were his” mentality, when I’m in the “he took my best friend, my reason for sticking around, the one who taught me what it meant to love someone unconditionally, so I really feel like I don’t want to be alive anymore because this place sucks” phase. I feel like I can’t even tell anyone that because if I did they would just flip out. I tried telling one person, he responded with a “Kody, Amandas death is not about you”. What a champ right? I never even implied it, sorry my heart is aching, sorry I have no will to exist, sorry I am not so quick to recover and hop on the bandwagon with everyone else.

I really am trying though. I’ve been clean, I’ve been keeping my head up as much as possible, but I hate when people ask “how are you doing?” or “you doing good/okay?”, I have to answer them honestly, and they don’t seem to like honest answers unless it’s positive.

I’m at this point in time the epitome of miserable. There will be no more calling me and waking me up in the morning, there will be no more waiting for you to get home, there will be no more helping with homework, there will be no more mixtapes that I can make for you, there will be no more laughs and smiles shared for the simple mutual pleasure of being friends. You left early, and I feel like each day I’m getting late. I know what I need to do, I need to keep this promise. I need to do what you would want, but it’s so hard not to be selfish when in this much pain.

But having that dream, it might pull me through, for a long while, it was nice to see your face again, and to see that it was happy. It was nice to see your smile, and your deep blue eyes. I hope they have the milkshakes and the sonics where you are, and you are dancing your butt off. I hope they have plenty of oil pastels and plenty of canvas. I hope they have as many apple trees as you would want, and they’re always in perfect season. I have no intentions of rushing this, as badly as it’s screaming out for me to. And when that day comes, when I pass of old age, or some tragic accident, I will pass with a smile on my face and greet death as an old friend. I can honestly say at this point that I am ready to come home. What impact I make here is the last thing on my mind, and the first thing on everyone elses.

I love you, and I miss you, best friend.