blue neighbourhood

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e p i l o g u e
T R I S T A N

have you heard me on the radio?
did you turn it up?
on your blown out stereo, in  s u b u r b i a?~

I miss him.

I play different stages every night, I have love from all around the world, I have my wonderful family and my wonderful boyfriend who'll always be there for me. I tried to move on, like he asked me to.

But I still miss Jamie.

I don't think you can actually understand what losing someone you love feels like unless you actually do. I wouldn't wish the pain on even the worst of people. It's been three years, and it's not as terrible as it used to be, but it still hurts.

Little things trigger it. I might see something cool and think, Jamie would love this, or write a chorus and then wonder if it sounds okay and pick up the phone and scroll through my contacts before I realise.

People tell me, Tristan, it's been three years, you need to move on. The truth is that most of me has moved on, because he told me to. Jamie's letter was my driving force to where I am now, and I just wish he could be here with me. Part of me will never move on, because he took that part with him when he went.

I wonder if he'd like my music. If he'd like the album's cover art and what he'd say about that photoshoot. But he's  n o t  h e r e  and it still fucks me up.

I don't agree with suicide, because in essence, it eliminates all possibility of life getting better. And it does get better. I know it felt like nothing could be worth living for, but think about all the Tristans that the Jamies leave behind when they leave, who'll always feel like they're missing a part of them.

It gets better, I promise.

-Tristan Mallory, 2016.