thoughts and kind-of-sort-of prose

Open Letter to a Brother

Do you remember when you promised not to kill yourself?
Of course you wouldn't, because you went a did it anyways.
Some nights, when I get lonely, and I think of you, I get angry.
All I see is red, angry.
That day before you left, I told you,
"I can't lose you."
And you replied,
"I know."
Well apparently you didn't know, because for a year after you died, I wrote letters to a dead person.
I went to a wedding on the day of your funeral. I dressed in all black and stared blankly at the table cloth.
I had to pretend I was fine around my parents because they didn't know you.
Your parents didn't know me.
The only conversation we shared was full of condolences and bad news.
Why was that the only time I spoke to your parents I don't even know what parent it was because it was nothing but empty fucking text messages

Yes, I get angry.
But I get really sad too.
I blame myself all the time.
Because I could have done more, said more.
Anything.
If someone I know isn't doing well mentally, I don't sleep.
I avoid going bowling and if I do, it's an anxious outing.
It's hard to believe promises anymore.
And this makes me sad because it shouldn't be like this.
I shouldn't be terrified all the time.

Why did you make me like this?
Do you remember when you promised not to kill yourself?