Author's Note: This takes place a few months after the last entry. Peter now continues to struggle within himself, but he lives on to become a better person. This is a letter to friends that he writes around the time of the anniversary of his family's deaths.
Cherish your family and loved ones.
Because you never know when you won't have them. For some people, having love, support, and affection is a daily ritual. For others, it's a privilege, something they can have every now and then. A hug, a kiss, a shoulder to cry on; some people dream of having that back, and then wondering if they ever really had it at all. What I've learned is that everything is conditional, you have things for only a reason. Once you stop giving whatever it is you're giving, once you stop saying whatever it is you're saying, you lose that love and support. Some people can't give when there is nothing left to share, they can't say anything when there's nothing left to say. So for certain people, all they can do is imagine what it would be like to get that hug, that kiss, that shoulder to cry on.
You know, it really hurts to smile. It's hurts to act like everything is okay when I know it's not. Something is missing and I can't find it. But you see, people will eventually stop caring about helping you find those missing pieces and they will leave you in a second for the next best thing. So where does that leave me? Still out in the cold, searching for those fucking missing pieces. What's funny is that I don't even know what it is that I'm looking for. I'm so used to being cold that its only on special occasions that I remember to shiver.
I never thought that night when my mother told me goodbye that the hug she gave me was going to be my last from her. I never thought that kiss on the cheek I gave my sister before leaving for school would be the last I would give her. I never thought the laugh I shared with my brother years ago would be the last. It does hurt to smile and act like everything is okay. Because it is so fucking far from okay that even a blind man should be able to see it. I'm cut wide open and looking for anything to cover it up, someone to help me recover. But everyone walks past me. They don't respond to my calls for help, they don't even acknowledge the fact that I'm standing right there.
What I wouldn't give just to have another stupid fight with my brother and sister, or a petty disagreement with my mother. At least I'd know I was real, that I was feeling life itself inside me. I would at least hear their voices speaking to me, I would see them, I would have the privilege to be able to reach out and touch them. I'd prefer that over outdated photos any day.
I'm always cold, but today is one of those days where I remembered to shiver. I need warmth and unfortunately, there's none of it to be found. So the only thing I can do is offer an example of what not to become. Cherish the people in your life because you never know when they might be gone. You'll never know when they walk out the door and close it if they'll be opening it again later. So for now, I'll be cold, but tomorrow I'll forget about it again. I'll force that smile on my face, however painful it may be, and I'll continue to hide the wounds that everyone can see plainly on my face. But tomorrow, none of it will matter. It never really does.