anniversaries + tragedies
hold on tight to the ones you love
Tomorrow is the second year anniversary of my 19 year-old sister Cassidy’s death. I opened my photo memories today and saw the last photo of me she ever saw. The girl that stares back at me had no idea what was coming. I want to tell her so many things: don’t leave Cass alone tonight; actually, don’t leave her alone ever again; don’t take her love for granted; don’t believe her when she says she’s fine; don’t let her go; don’t let her go; don’t let her go; don’t—
Today, I have woken up 719 times in a world without my best friend; my favorite person; my angelic baby sister. Sometimes I wake up and forget. For a long time, I counted the minutes it took for me to remember. This was not supposed to be my life. I still cannot believe this is my life.
a “positive” of grief: you can finally understand how much everyone fucking loves you.
one of the endless negatives of grief: we all have understand how much we fucking love you. it makes me wish sometimes that I never got to have it, but how ridiculous does that sound? we all crave that kind of love, right? I lost it, but I still had it. even if it wasn’t long enough, I still had it.
If the only constant in life is change, then the only constant in my life is that I will miss you: forever, intensely, entirely, no matter what. I will never lose that.
but I’ll never have you again, either.
to my future self, reading this next month or years later:
hope ur ok
xoxo,
karlie