Dear Dougie,
Hey, Doug. How are you? I hope you're feeling good, wherever you are now. Man, I feel stupid writing this letter. It's not like you're going to see it anyway. But, I...I guess I like to imagine you can see me writing this, imagine that maybe you're still with us, in some strange and spiritual way.
I miss you, Dougie. No, that's an understatement. I can't explain how much I want you back here, back here with us. I'd do anything, anything in the whole world, just to see you one more time. You'll never understand how painful it is now. Every day, it's the same. I wake up, I feel happy, positive. Then I remember. I remember that you're not here to laugh with and mess around with. I remember there's no more 'Pudd' jokes, no more kissing you when you least expect it. I can't grab you from behind and tickle you until you beg for mercy, your eyes glistening with tears of laughter.
I...I guess I understand why you did it. You were depressed. You weren't the happy, loveable Dougie that we all knew. No, inside you were crying for help. But none of us were there to hear you. I should've known something was wrong. Of course, I knew about the drugs. I knew that what you were doing had gone too far, and it would have consequences. But I didn't act soon enough.
Guilt. I'm overwhelmed with constant, ridiculous guilt. I could've stopped you. They say it wasn't my fault- Tom, Danny, everyone. They say it was your decision, and only that. But they're wrong. You listened to me. I was the one who got you up on stage when you were petrified, taught you how to shave when you hated the feel of stubble on your chin. You and me, we had a bond. I realise now that, if I'd asked you to, you would've told me everything. I could've got you into rehab, got your life back. For some stupid reason, I didn't.
Look, I'm sorry. Dougie, I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry for not noticing your struggle. I'm sorry for letting it get as far as it did. I'm sorry for watching as you got drunk and pass out, rather than taking you home. If I could go back in time, then I would've done things differently. I promise. I would have taken the bottle away from you after round two, I would've been with you wherever you went. You would've hated me for it, but it would work.
Did you think of me when you did it? When you climbed into your car, turned the gas on, did you think of how much you'd hurt me? Probably not. You never did realise how much we cared about you, even when I told you that I'd always be there for you. You didn't listen. I wonder if I crossed your mind that day. Did you remember the times we had together? The inside jokes, the warm hugs, the smiles we shared? I guess you never stopped to think about the fact that you matter-mattered- to all of us.
It's not the same without you. It's horrible. There's no one here for me to hug in the morning, no one for me to look forward to. I never told you that, did I? I looked forward to you, Dougie. Every day, I felt like just lying in bed, and drifting away, leaving all the problems behind. But then I thought of you. I thought of the laughs we would have, the things we'd do. I thought of our tickling matches and stupid games. And I'd get up.
But you're not here anymore. And I'll wake up, and instead of smiling because of what might come, I cry because of what happened. My pillows are stained with tears, my eyes are constantly glistening. I'll cry at breakfast, I'll cry in rehearsals. The other guys are better at keeping their emotions to themselves. But every time I see something that reminds me of you- a bass lying around, or even an object as simple as a headband, the tears somehow find their way out of my eyes.
I will never, ever get over you. Everyone tells me that it'll be okay, that I'll stop crying one day. That day isn't today. It's not tomorrow. It's nowhere near now. It's never. The bond I had with you was too strong. When that bond got broken, it stabbed me in the heart, leaving a scar that will never heal.
I love you, Dougie. I know that if you were here today, you would've told me not to say that, because it sounded 'gay'. But it's true. I love you, I love you, I love you. I always did, Doug, and I always will. And I hope that wherever you are now, you're telling me you love me too.
Well, I guess that's it, for now. I miss you. I want you here, but I know you can never come back. Maybe, sometime, I'll get over this wishful thinking. Goodbye, Dougie.