Forever means a much different thing when you’re young; you think you have forever so you act like it. Bad days and heated fights that steam with every word hissed are meaningless, for there is always another day to start again.
However, the irony of forever is that it always comes to a close. Then there you are, left in an abyss of thoughts and broken promises as every memory is replayed like a broken record.
But life is not a song.
The events that make up someone’s life cannot be completely spilled out nor defined by notes on a page; life is filled with too much ambiguity. The story we live is so much more — the depth of life is too big a significance to be properly played by a record, not in 3 minutes, not in an entire album. Sure, there are components that resemble music, but instead of life being a song, songs are a representation of life, a way to untangle the mysteries we incur. I never used to think about you when I listened to music, but now you’re in every song I hear.
There’s a quote that says dead people receive more flowers than the living because regret is stronger than gratitude. I know I should be grateful for the time we have now, but when I put flowers on your grave, whose hand will I hold? Who’s going to hug me and play with the strands of my hair as I cry myself dry? Who’s going to sit with me, with the same passion in his eyes as I do for sunsets, baseball games, and tranquil afternoons? Who’s going to show me what it means to be alive as I fall down, get back up, and grow, brushing the dirt off my knees while I try again, running to you if I need a little help to calm the storm inside? I guess I can say I’m lucky I was able to say a proper goodbye, at least as much of a goodbye as I could having peace knowing all things ended with love.
All I can do is pray, beg, kneel before anything and everything in hopes something will hear me and give me one more miracle. You promised forever, but I know that someday soon you have to break that. I want you to know I forgive you. I want to be selfish. I’m not ready to live a life without you—I need my dad. I also know you’re in pain, and despite your best efforts to hide it and countless times you’ve told me it doesn’t hurt, your eyes tell a different story.
So I will learn to let you go. I will learn to be strong and brave and kind. Maybe someday I’ll have my own daughter or son running to me and I’ll brush the dirt off their knees and wipe their tears dry and I’ll tell them about forever.
Everything won’t be alright all the time, but maybe they’ll be more okay than I think. Thank you for teaching me about love and showing me that I don’t always need to be strong, but that a kind heart and happy mind is the greatest home you can build for yourself. That with hope, a positive mindset, and a gentle soul, your heart will burn with a passion like no other. Within that passion, my love for you will dance alongside the flames.