I spent hours yesterday cutting paper bookmarks for both of the kids’ Halloween parties, even though all I wanted to do was turn into a puddle. I thought about handing the piles of construction paper to someone else and climbing into bed a million times. But, I didn’t. I made it to both of the parties. I knew that you wouldn’t like to hear I missed the parties on account of missing you.
I lost you on Thursday. It hurts, everywhere. I hate cancer.
Last Halloween we spent it together. Do you remember we coincidentally dressed the same way?
I love you. I adored everything about you. You are the kind of best friend girls dream of.
I’m heart broken.
I can hear your laughter, and that’s what I’ll hold on to. I’ll keep your smiles and warmth folded up in my pocket because I’m still in need of them. I’m sorry that I won’t get the chance to build more memories with you. I’m sad that your family is forced to be without you—that the world is. I’m sad that I have to be. I’m just sad.
But I am glad that you aren’t in pain anymore. I hated that you were so uncomfortable. I wanted so badly to make you feel better.
I am happy you chose me as a friend, and I’m happy that you thought all of my terrible jokes were so funny.
I am glad you loved me too. I’ll miss you always.