My brother is gone, guys.
My 25-year old brother is gone, and my family is broken. It's been 3 days since we put him to rest, 9 days since he left us.
We're wandering, wondering, trying to figure out how this became our story.
We don't know how to live right now, and I think that itís going to get worse before it gets better. My mother wants me to go to San Diego next week. I don't really want to, but I can't say no to my mother right now. Also, the only other thing that's pushing me to go is the fact that I'm flying, and Frankie loved anything to do with airplanes. Maybe he'll be on the plane with me.
Thank you to Sleye, for letting everyone know. Thank you to you all, for your emails and messages and voicemails of sympathy.
And now, we just have to figure out how to lessen the grief, and, maybe, someday, learn to live with this painful, impossible-to-fill void in our lives.
My little brother is gone, and itís just impossible to understand.
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