five years later

Dearest Brandon,


I didn't think I would be able to bring myself to write this post; I thought it would be too difficult, but I'm figuring as it is almost the end of July it is either now or never.  I'm sorry it took me so long.  

I cannot believe it was five years on July 10th, five years since the glass of invincibility I had lived my life under came shattering down.  Five years since I was given the heartbreaking news that you had been in a fatal car accident.  


We had a tumultuous relationship, you and I--one that was obviously not meant to be--full of drama, sorrow, extreme bliss, but one that also collapsed friendships.  The friendship between you and my sister is one that haunts her because she never was able to make peace with you.  I know though that you hear her.  

...because I know you hear me.   You know I struggle with death, and after-life, and all that comes to be--and you know it frightens me, but you help me.  The night you died I felt your presence in my bedroom, it was so strong, your presence there.  I knew, if I opened my eyes I would see you, but I was too afraid.  I squeezed them shut, and waited for your presence to pass because I was scared.  I recall how obvious the difference was to me--you being there and then you being gone.  How I've wanted many times over to go back to that moment and get one last glimpse of your dazzling face, and mostly the chance to say goodbye.  Perhaps, that is why you try and try again to reach me in my dreams.

I remember telling you once that my grandmother scares me when she visits me in dreams because she just appears.  And I know she's not supposed to really be there because she is not alive.  Is that why you call me before you come into my dreams?  So that I wont be frightened?  Thank you!  I love when you visit.  It's been a long time!  Come back soon!  The first time you visited my dreams, you called me to "warn me" you were coming.  Then, sat down to tell me you were alive and well... this gives me hope that we are alive in death--as paradoxical as that may seem.  

I'm writing this because it has been five years, and I want you to know that I think of you still... often.  Sometimes I feel your presence in my car, or I pass by the smell of your cologne and my pheromones go crazy.  I try to be still at these moments, and ever so quiet--listening, if only I could hear you.  On the 4th I drove up rt 30A... a place I had not been in a long, long time.  The wreath I made you is the only marker still left, hanging from the tree almost camouflaged into it--all the color gone from the flowers, and our pictures and notes disintegrated.  I'm glad I took a picture of the notes, so the memories linger long after they have been carried off by the wind. I looked at the wreath, marveled that it was still there, and promised to make you a new one.  Then, I prayed, silently--allowing myself to be overcome with emotion at this place where you took your last natural breath in life.  I allowed myself to be overcome with the love so many people once and still feel for you.

Be at peace my dear Brandon.
I love you always,