I feel so depressing tonight and I don't know why. I mean, I know I've got a good reason to...so I guess I do know why.
I'm flying home tomorrow. Yay Christmas! It doesn't feel like Christmas though. Every time I start to get excited I think about Sam and how he's not here and he'll never be here for another Christmas. He and I would wake up super early on Christmas mornings just to see if Santa came and to take a peek at what he brought us.
All my old favorite Christmas songs make me sad because they remind me of Sam. Maybe someday they'll make me happy for the exact same reason. I hope so.
It'll be six months on December 28th since he died. I can't believe it's been six months. It seems like years. I can't believe I've made it this far...every morning I wake up wondering how the world is still turning, how people can still live their lives, how they expect me to live my life, even with him gone. And every night I go to sleep hoping that tomorrow will bring him back.
I miss my brother so much.
About a month ago I was laying on my bed at home one evening and all of the sudden I heard the bagpipes start up. I'm positive my heart stopped. I held my breath. I wasn't completely sure if I was dreaming or if I was imagining things...and then I realized. My dad had borrowed my brother Marshalls bagpipes to try and it was just him playing them. I was so disappointed. I honestly believed that it was Sam playing those pipes, and I was hoping SO HARD that he would come walking down the hallway and into my room. It was one of the hardest moments of my life when the music stopped playing and Sam was still gone.
I had a friend complain to me about how hard her life was...hard because she's 19 and still living at home while most of her friends are off at school, hard because her job is stressful, hard because she doesn't have a boyfriend. I just stared at her, wondering if she realized who she was talking to. What I really wanted to do was to slap her across the face. To make her realize how good she's got it! I would give anything to have those be my problems again! Instead I've got a brother who has passed away, a sister who has got almost the same condition she had, and all my innocence and naivety and joy of life shattered. I go to bed at night hoping for normal dreams that aren't dark and confusing.
I wish I could be normal again. I wish not having a boyfriend actually mattered to me. I wish I had my brother back.