Dear Simon,
It’s been six months since you passed away. ‘Passed away’ not ‘Died’ because in some convoluted way, saying you have died seems too final. As if it’s not final enough yet. I spent first month in a daze, second in denial, third in acceptance, fourth in contemplating suicide, fifth in making plans and sixth in being busy. Nothing works. I still go to bed in tears. I still cry while driving. I still call out for you.
You are wondering why I’m writing here when I talk to you almost all the time. Because it’s easier to put things down sometimes. Because I am afraid world will forget you. Because maybe you will read these some day, some where, in some form. And you’ll know that someone kept missing you.
xxx
S
Letters to Simon 