The loneliness is intense, the grief is loud and my anger issues have probably hit through the ceiling and have gone all the way up, into the milky way galaxy.
I'm empty. The heaviness gets more profound on certain days. It sucks that you're not around on your birthday or mine. It sucks that I can't tell you important life changing decisions I've taken.
I have people to laugh with and eat with and work with, but none of them are you. And I remember you, every single day.
Tears do no justice to your absence. Instead, I want to break things and scream people down. Maybe I'll feel a little better then. I don't know.
If I could go back in time and re-do everything, I know you'd probably still die, because you never listened to me anyway.
Why? That's all I ask, even today. Why did you have to kill yourself with work?