Time is a funny thing. It is relentless, fluid, merciless, and passes in the blink of the eye.
Letter to the deceased:
Nine years ago today. Somehow that happened. Somehow that much time has passed. I don't blame you. Some might call it selfish, but I've learned that sometimes it seems like taking matters into your own hands is the only solution, the only control you have. A lot of that is due to a broken system that is designed for failure. At this point, however, it's irrelevant. You are gone, the system failed you, and you took the only path you saw.
I truly believe you are at peace now. It may be something we tell ourselves for solace, but it still feels true. You were such a beautiful, tortured soul. Full of rich laughter and self rage/hate. I miss you.
My life still continues to take interesting turns, turns I never saw coming. I can see that devilish grin you would get, if you were still around to hear about it. You would laugh deep and full, and I think you would be proud of me. I wish I could tell you about it all, you'd love so many of the dirty details, and you'd probably have some amusing suggestions too. Hell, maybe you are watching from the perfect seat, a toothy smile growing wider.
The tobacco made my eyes water more than usual tonight. A sweet blend of rum and maple - the smokes swirling back on me, stinging slightly. I probably deserved that. Somehow I missed the offering on your birthday this year. Partially life getting in the way, partially the grief finally settling into acceptance.
Next offering will be the last of the Madeira I opened 8 years ago, one year after you left us. Fitting it will be on the decaversary. I savor the taste, and pour out a generous amount for you.
I savor the taste and smell of these, several of your favorite things. I take some time to honor the good memories we had together.
I miss you, my friend. Be at peace.