I'm sorry, I was sleeping. My phone was dead, or charging, or some other excuse. I was busy being happy with my best friends, flatmates, having the time of my life. Sorry. Sorry you're depressed. Sorry I broke your heart. Sorry I can't make up my mind and I'm selfish and unkind and I can't be bothered to drive to come see you. I'm so sorry. It doesn't matter how many times you say don't worry or tell me I don't need to be, I'll still keep saying it. s-o-r-r-y. Please don't be sad, it's a bit of a burden on me.

Every day I see you mount an imaginary horse and ride boldly into a place you no longer wish to be.

I see how these last two years have weighed on you and I need you to know that you are not the sum of your life's disappointments.

Do not go into those dark places that haunt you. Someday the light you emit will surround you. It will shine. And in that moment, just as in this one, I will be there.

You are a writer, a singer, a mother, a builder of kindness, and a champion of hope.

You are my dearest friend.

And someday this world will see you as I do.

And you will say:

"Thank God I never gave up!"

It's impossible to know

how it all began

Now that I can do nothing

but find footprints in sand-

If this is the end

I don't know where to start,

Without building up walls

to protect my heart

It all washes away

the wounds too, eventually

But, closing my eyes

this is still what I see:

That same frozen smile

holding pleasant suprise

As if life were a joke

and death, the punchline.

Afterwards, there was silence

and nothing felt real

For the scars you cannot see

are the hardest to heal.

in the same ways im sure her loop could be endless

as stagnant and traumatizing as mine

i often look in the mirror and

imagine the parts of my face she found beautiful

maybe still does

maybe wished she did

few are the mornings where the wind blows by me and forgets to leave your flower

that blue one with petals that look like linen

last night they woke up in my pockets and i simply

pulled them out to sprinkle on top of my head as

i laughed and played in that warmth of that smile you left me

the last time i saw you

many times you don’t believe the things i say to be real

but i might try to convince you of my innate insanity

for one i

am currently addicted to words and have been

thinking of you for a while and writing the ways you intrigue

me in this book i keep in my wallet

small things you hide with your voice

and your eyes as you speak

i often catch emotions you are afraid to express

but those blue bulbs are much louder than you could ever imagine

and its the job of my pen and this small book to remember for a while at least.

i would eat breakfast with you most days. the other ones ill squeeze juice into a clean cup. draw a doodle of you with your arms raised up high. read a newspaper.

the sun is setting quickly but the lights still orange on your face. take your sunglasses off for this one please.

remember that im thinking of you.

The tears I have shed are green, because Life is pain. If you breathe, you are vulnerable, and you will be hurt. That is inevitable. But life is also change. Every experience shapes us into something different. Sometimes, that "something different" puts you in a low place, and sometimes it brings you out of one. The point is, we are all always changing, therefore, life is also hope. And if you have hope, there will always be a way to be better, little by little. My tears are green, because the fact that I feel that pain in the first place means I'm alive. It is because of all of my wounds and scars, all of the regrets and anguish, that I grow.

I don't want to see you now,

Your starry silhouette fading into morning

Enveloped in the sun's rays,

Which illuminate your unravelling

Darkness; love, don't

wake me

up.

I miss you.

You don’t seem gone, but I know you are. I know you’re gone because there are still cookies on your nightstand. I know you’re gone because your favorite red coat is still hanging on a hook in the mudroom, and I know that you would never leave it here. I know you’re gone because the trampoline hasn’t been used in a while, and I know you’re gone because there’s a dull ache in my chest that won’t go away.

I’ve never really known a world without you, so everything seems a little out of focus. The normal sharp edges are hazy, and I’m not completely sure who I am. There’s a different person inside of me, and she seems very shy, because she doesn’t speak at all. I know I’m still Aubrey, because my body knows what to do. I know where to sleep, and I know where to sit, and I know that it’s you in the photo by my bed.

Pop keeps taking me to a grief counselor, but I’m not grieving. Because I’m not Aubrey. It’s Aubrey and Anna. It always has been.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m not Aubrey anymore. Because you’re a part of her, I thought you should know that. I don’t know who this quiet person is, but I know that the old me loved you.

So goodbye. I miss you. I hope you have fun up there, wherever you are. I’ll write you later, when I know who I am.

See you,

Aubrey