You've been gone 1 year. 12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days. There hasn't been a single day in those 365 days where I haven't thought about you. There's not been a day where I haven't regretted not reaching out to you more than I did. I've lost a lot of family and a lot of friends but none have hit me as hard as losing you. You were more like a brother than a cousin. Born exactly 3 months after me, we shared classes together, fought with each other, took up for each other, stood side by side with each other, and I laughed the day Brayden was born on your birthday because I said it was so fitting....and I wasn't there when you needed someone the most. And for that, I will forever be sorry.
What would have happened if I had gone ahead and asked you if you wanted to come over for dinner? Or if you wanted to just come over and hang out some? Or if you wanted to go to the gym with me? What would have happened if I hadn't told myself you needed more time, and you wouldn't want to hear from me? We'll never know
We used to laugh growing up about how we were going to be the grouchy old people of the family who scared all the kids on holidays in matching, creaking rocking chairs. There's no one to sit in that other creaking rocking chair now.
I'm so sorry we weren't as close in what ended up being our old years together as we were in our younger ones. If you couldn't beat it, no one could. The demon had latched on too strong. Who knows if I, or anyone, could have said or done anything to change this outcome. But I'll never know, because I didn't try hard enough. I didn't know. Words can't express the amount of hurt and regret I have for that. I will forever, every single day, miss you.