It’s been 17 years since you died. Every year, I’m reminded of it. The 25th of October you left this world after being hit by a car. You flew through the air, and I wonder: What were your last thoughts? Did you realize this would be your last seconds? That you never would see your family and friends again?
Who would you be today, if you were still here? You were only 16. We talked about moving in together when I was 16, because we needed to spend as much time together as possible. You always made me smile, no matter how bad my day was. But after you died, smiling was harder. For years there was only blackness. When I saw other friends, it did not feel right, because I knew there never would be another you. Nobody could replace you, no one understood me as well as you did. You loved me to bits, and it was mutual.
I don’t know if there is a life after this. I’ve pondered that possibility since you died. To never see you again, feels terrible. I hope you are sitting on a cloud, watching over me. Are you sad? Sad because you had so many dreams that never will come true?
I’ve felt guilty for years. Why did I survive when you didn’t? I’ve been in two car accidents, but I’m still here. You were at the wrong place at the wrong time, and that feels unfair. You were loved by so many people, and you always saw the good in everyone around you. I’ve tried to keep that in mind, to bring it with me whenever I encounter new people. I am blessed to have known you.
Are you proud of me? Did I manage to become the person you hoped I would become?
17 years later, and I can still see your face and hear your voice when I close my eyes. The memories we shared are so precious to me, and I can’t and won’t ever forget you.