Dear Josh

Well hey. It's coming up on 3 months since you've been gone. That is so weird. I feel like 100 years older. Your mom and I have been talking a lot. I like her. She's handled this with such grace and simple faith that I am floored every time i talk to her. It's sort of homey talking to her, like closer to you or something.

I went running last night and stopped at this park to just lay on this hill and stare up at the sky. I was just kinda tired and felt so heavy. Of course, stupid Ryan Adams starts cooing in my ear our song at that very moment. Perfect. Then, I just let go. It's like these tears just came up from the bottom of my feet all the way out. I cry a lot when i'm going to sleep at night, but it's always kinda quiet, soft tears. These were huge, loud sobs that made me sore this morning. It's been a while since I've cried like that. And it was a weird sort of relieving to let it all go. I feel like we played a lot of games with each other's hearts. You know? And I just yelled up at the sky, 'I'm done playing! I'm done playing. This hurts for real this time!" (If there was anyone in earshot, I'm sure they thought I was a quack.) But really. It hurts for real this time. Losing you is the hardest thing i've ever lived through -- and i'm not even quite sure i'm gonna make it. (Ha, that's so dramatic) I mean, I will. I know. But days like today it just doesn't seem so certain. I just can't imagine ever feeling for someone what I felt about you. I can't imagine wanting someone like I wanted you.

It all just happened so fast. Why did you have to go? Come back and let's play again. I'll even let you win. I will! It's funny because people talk a lot about you being in heaven and being finally restored. I guess that's good. I mean, it is. It's just funny because i have to fight this selfishness that always says, "But i can take care of you just fine. I can be your peace." But I know I can't. I know I wasn't. So I guess I'm supposed to grow up and love you selflessly and really allow you to be there and be made new. I guess. I think last night I decided that I hadn't made my peace with God about you. You know? Like I'm still not ok with Him taking you. But, as it turns out, it's not up to me.

So for now, it just hurts. It hurts to think about when I first met you in my dorm room on my way to the showers. It hurts to think about all those sweet times we had. It hurts to think that you're not out there thinking about me like I am about you. Before I always knew I was in the back of your mind (thanks Ryan Adams), someone that you could go to when your loneliness was just too much. And it hurts to know now that you don't need me as a simple solace. You don't want me like you did. Wow, I guess you're over me. Ha, that's oversimplification at its finest.

Anyways. I'm sorry that I never made it down there until your wake. I'm sorry that you got tied up with all that crap in Dallas. I'm sorry that I loved you so selfishly.

Going down there, writing your mom, it all seem so unreal. Like, there's no way this is really happening. There's no way that I'm standing here, staring up at the sign above the door at the funeral home with your name on it. There's no way that I really we really said our last goodbyes at the cemetary. It's just too unreal. It hurts too much to be real.

"So I'll hold you close in the back of my mind..."