T minus one hour until your names read on a wall in Nashville.

As the title says. Less than an hour until I record your name being read on a wall dedicated to those we've lost to suicide. 

If I had a choice, I'd want to be there. But since COVID has once again reeked it's havoc, my inner social butterfly is super excited to be doing it from home. 

I've gone through like three manic episodes in the last hour. Where I can't stop shaking. I can't breathe.... && If I sit still that's it. 

Hence why I'm doing this now. Breathing, writing. Trying to remember the good. 

It was supposed to be beautiful. && Now, all I can think of is how sad it is, that you're going to be on a wall, because life is shit. 

I fucking miss you man. It's been, way too damn long. 

&& I'm honestly terrified of doing this without you. 

Because at some point in life, I'll be alone. 

&& Again I feel selfish as shit for even thinking that. Because at the same time, I understand all too well.... All.. too... Damn.. well.. 

I'm just already not processing or accepting you being gone sometimes. 

I'm so scared of when padre && mother go. 

But I know padres so tired of hurting, emotionally, && physically. 

&& I know death is inevitable, I kind of accepted that after grandma went, && then charity. 

But yours, yours was different. We made a blood promise that we'd never leave each other. Hence why I guess I take so hard... 

I know at some point I'll be okay .. I hope... But I can only do so much at once before I have a true mental break. 

&& I can't do that. Not again. We saw how I got after charity died. It took her yelling at me in my dream to stop, for me to stop.... 

It took you begging me, because you needed me to live, for me to actually stop

.... Three years ago as of the first. 

((I literally had to switch off this page to remind my sponsor that I'm some fucking how managing to do this... Without meth...)) 

I'm so proud of you sister. For making it to two years. I understand all too well.... I really do. && I'm sorry you losing d, is what made you fall back into it. 

I'm proud of you period. You relapsed. && It's okay. I promise. I still would had been here, holding your hand throughout the entire thing. Helping you in every way I could, just like before. 

The tiny is awake. So it's time to feed him before this reading. I need to take a breath. I took my anxiety meds. So, breathe. I know. 

I miss you. I miss your laugh. Being able to braid your hair, your hugs, your random ass grabbing my boobs && butt moments ((it's okay, we all did it to each other all the time.. 🤣 in a non incest way.. you'd have to be there to see it.🤣🤣))

It's these things that keep me fighting to be honest. I have videos of your laugh. I have videos of your smile. I have drunk, sober, high videos. 

I'm grateful for you. 

I miss you more than I could ever put into words. 

More than I could ever describe in this .... 

I truly hope you find your peace sister. 

I love you.