Dear Nathan,
I don't see how writing this will help me feel better, since you'll never get to see this, but I don't know what else to do, so here goes.
It's been two full years since you...God, I can't evenwrite the fucking 'd' word without choking up. But I guess you know what I mean. It's been two years, but the events of that September night are still a blur. Or maybe I don't really want to remember what happened because it would hurt too much.
I'm scared, Nath. I'm scared of closing my eyes every night because I know that I'll dream of the smoke, the flames, of you heroically running down the burning hallway-in your jammies and bare feet, nonetheless-to get us out of our rooms and out of the flat. I'll keep seeing the moment you passed out on the lawn with a smile frozen on your peaceful-albeit dirty and soot-stained-face. I'll remember those sleepless nights in the hospital waiting room with Jay, Seev, Max, Jess, and Karen when we were just staring at the dull grey walls waiting for news, any news. And it'll always end with the doctor approaching us and shaking her head. I'm sorry, he didn't make it.
Four years. We spent four entire years as bandmates and practically brothers, but all that literally went up in smoke. You know that Taylor Swift song, Ronan ? I can't listen to it without tearing up because it reminds me so much of you. You were my best four years , you know that? You were our best four years. And now nothing's ever gonna be the same. We still do gigs and all that shit that comes with the record label, but you left a gaping hole that can never be filled.
During those first agonizing days leading up to the funeral, I wanted to hate you, Nath. I wanted to hate you for just leaving us the way you did. But that would be totally selfish. The truth is, I could never ever in a million lifetimes hate you. It's the opposite actually: I miss you. More than you could ever know. I miss you so much that it hurts. It hurts that I won't get to see you anymore, won't get to hear your amazing voice. It's so much quieter in the flat now without you randomly bursting into song. On the one bright note, I know that heaven is a much better place with you around.
Sometimes I can't help but wonder if you miss us, if you miss singing your heart out on a stage. But I'm rambling now, aren't I? Sorry, I just can't get my thoughts together. If you could see me now, you'd laugh at me for being a spluttering mess. I'll stop now; this is getting too much to take. I just want to let you know that I love you to the moon and back, Nathan James Sykes.
One of your best mates (I hope),
Thomas Anthony Parker