The living dead.

The living dead.

How is it that someone who has been gone over three years somehow is still present in my life?

How can they continue to enter into my thoughts?

Why do I continue to ask her questions, when I know I won’t receive a response?

How are you still so present?

Why do I still look to you for answers?

When I try something new, why do my thoughts float to you?

“Ryane would love this.”

When I am sitting with my friends at a bar or resturant, and all I can think is,

“Ryane would be doing this…”

“Ryane would be entertaining everyone.”

“Ryane would…”

But you’re not.

And you won’t.

And you can’t.

So why?

Why do I still want your advice?

Your hug?

Your laugh?

Why do I still want to hear your voice?

Or see you walk into the room?

Why do I want to see you painting on the living room floor when I walk in?

Or binging Moulin Rouge over and over again?

Why do I want guy advice from someone who didn’t even give good advice?

Why do I want to be your twin so badly again?

Nelson the twin is gone.

Because I had to change without you.

I was forced to.

It was either change or die.

And you may think I am exaggerating…

but to keep living as a twin,

it would have killed me.

Because I was only half without you Ryane.

And you can’t live in a world being half a person.

You can’t crawl into bed and shrivel up.

The world doesn’t allow it.

The world demands you get up.

You keep moving forward.

Day after day after day.

So you do.

Because what else is there to do?

For so long, I felt my purpose was to save you.

You said it forever – “Nelson, you are my conscience. When I think of doing something wrong, I hear your voice inside my head.”

I hoped that would be enough.

And yet here we are.

And I am without you.

Because unfortunately, no one could save you that night.

I couldn’t be with you at all times!

I was away at college.

And then you were gone.

And here we are.

It truly is hard to fathom the permanence of death.

Our stupid brains can barely comprehend it.

Mine still can’t.

So I am cursed to relive the same grief and loss,

with each new wave of realization,

that you will not be back.

I miss you dearly.

And I will continue to,

until the day we meet again.

xoxo,