Chapter 2 - I'm interested to hear thoughts and suggestions! I'm fixing the formatting - I guess it got screwed up somehow! When I bring things over from Word it sometimes loses the spacing and font changes, so let me know if it's confusing!

Knock. Knock.

Is it a letter!? I run to the door from the bedroom. I haven't gotten out of bed yet, so my legs are quickly trying to function as I clumsily make it through the house. I jam my foot into the coffee table but ignore the pain. I fling open the door to see Leah standing there with a bag of Chinese food.
"Hey, Simon." She says suspiciously.

Damn. I forgot we were hanging out tonight. I look at the clock on the wall in the living room and see it's already 7:42 PM. Holy shit.
"Hey!" I stammer.
"Hey. You didn't call so I just assumed you'd be home by now?"
"Yeah. Sorry. I just got home a few minutes ago." This is obviously a lie. I'm in boxers and a t-shirt, it's clear I haven't showered, and even I can smell my breath.
"Oh. OK." She says as she pushes through me to enter the living room. "So, I learned something today."
"Yeah? What's that?" I say as I hastily try to restore order to the kitchen and living room.
"You still have me as your emergency contact at work."

My cheeks immediately flash red. I hate when Leah catches me in a lie. Of course all friends get upset when they catch you lying, but Leah takes it personal. It's like it hurts her soul. I can tell she's upset, but she's giving me a pass for this one.

"They said they haven't seen you in three weeks. They've been calling too?"
"Umm, yeah. I know. I wanted to call them today, but I just couldn't. I used my vacation and sick time when he really got sick, so when he…"

I couldn't say anything else. I'm so sick of thinking and talking about it. Leah seems to understand and continues the conversation.

"Well. They understand, Simon. Really. They just ask that maybe you at least give them a call on Monday? Your boss wants you to take as much time as you need, he just needs to know if you plan on coming back."
"Yeah. That's fair. I'll call them."
"Great. Well. Enough of that. Let's eat this Americanized, shitty excuse for Chinese food and watch TV?"
"Please and thank you."

It was great spending time with Leah. We haven't done this in a while. Not since she had the baby. She's an amazing mom, and Garrett is a great father too. They got pregnant soon after our engagement and went to the courthouse for a marriage license. Leah has never been the type of girl who wanted a wedding. /spanWatching TV with her was exactly what I needed. For a moment I felt normal. I forgot for just a second how terrible life was. We made it through the end of SNL and I realized I was happy. Even sort of smiling. Then, I felt guilty. I remembered why I spent almost 20 hours in bed and began replaying everything in my mind. I hate that. I deserve happiness. I deserve to have moments of normalcy.

Leah stands and gathers her things to leave and turns to me.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"
"Umm, yeah. As ready as I can be I suppose."
"Good. You know I can stay here tonight if you need me."
"No, Leah, you can go. I'm fine. Really. Thank you though."
"Ok. Well, I'm stopping by tomorrow to pick you up. Garrett and I are driving you."
"No. I can drive. Really."
"Simon. This isn't an offer. You can't accept or deny. It's happening." I smile. I want her to take me so bad. I want her to be the first person I see and the last person to tell me some bullshit line about moving on and how things will get easier. "Thanks, Leah. That means more than you'll ever know."

She smiles and walks to the door. I can tell she wants to say something else, but she's going over every line in her head. I love that about her. She doesn't like cliche moments, and she knows I've heard every blanket statement over the past week. Eventually it clicks and just as she reaches the door she turns to me.

"Simon, when we buried my father I couldn't look at him. Yeah, it was open casket, but I just couldn't. I hate that I didn't. I don't know what I expected to see, but now I'll never know. I missed the last chance to see him as he was. In some sick way I wish I would've seen him look peaceful. Like he was sleeping. Si, I know it'll be hard, but take it in tomorrow. Don't shut down, or try to act too strong. No one is expecting anything from you."
"Just promise me one thing?"
"Anything."
"You'll try to keep my mother at bay?"
She lightly laughs. "Simon, give her a break. She is a therapist you know?"
"Yeah, yeah. Me too!"
"Well, sometimes even therapists need a therapist."

I hug her and watch as she makes her way to the car. Why did I tell her I was fine? I want to wave my arms and scream for her to return so I don't have to spend another night alone in this house. The Spier-Greenfeld residence. I used to love it. The unique shapes, amazingly landscaped front yard, lattice work crawling to the second story. Now I get a terrible taste in my mouth when I have to come back to it. I turn to walk back inside and notice the mail pouring out of the box. I'm such an idiot! Why the fuck didn't I check the mailbox!?

I grab the mound of envelopes and sales flyers and throw them on the couch. I fall on my knees and frantically sort through the junk. Bram always complained about the unnecessary amount of paper wasted on snail-mail. That's why he refused to create real estate flyers for himself or any properties he listed. Then I saw it. A clean white envelope with THAT logo. That fucking logo. Creekwood Baptist Hospital. I've seen it on walls, bills, scrubs, signs, and clipboards for the past two months. In the middle of the envelope is that writing I know too well. I rip it open and begin reading.

Jaques,

I knew all along that I could possibly have to write this letter about the eve of my funeral. I have started it so many times and changed it completely every draft. The simple truth is: tomorrow is going to be a shitty day. I'm so sorry I can't be there for you. I hope you don't mind, but I asked Leah to take you...

I have everything planned, ordered, reserved, and taken care of. All you need to do is just be there. Be there for you, my family, and your family. I'm sure you're already stressing out and overthinking all the interactions you're going to have. Cliches or OK sometimes. Sometimes, there's just nothing else to say. I wish I knew some magic word or task to give you that would make you immediately feel better, but I don't. Because it doesn't exist. This is just one of those things that's going to be bad for a while. Then one day, it will feel slightly less shitty.

Hopefully, you've already experienced a few moments where you've been happy again. So, your task for this letter will be to not feel guilty after. I know you will, but DON'T! Simon, it's ok to feel normal again. You need to! I need you to. The thought of you not moving on is devastating. I need you to be the Simon who laughs so hard he snorts, gets so excited when he finds a good deal that he has to call his sister, and smiles when he dreams. You have made my life so incredibly fulfilling. Please, PLEASE don't stop fulfilling yours.

Wear the blue bow-tie with red polka-dots I love. It's my favorite!

Love, Jaques
PS. I'm serious...answer your mother!

I suddenly realize how exhausted I am. I wipe the tears from my eyes and walk to the office. I pull down the old cigar box we found in Germany to place this letter with the first. It's hard to imagine really being happy without him. Every significant moment of happiness over the last eight years has been so intertwined with him. Who am I without Bram? Who is Jaques without his Blue? I lay on the bed and pull the covers over my head to hide myself from the world as I begin my nightly ritual. It's time to replay every moment we had together. Will it ever get to a point where I don't remember something? What he was wearing, how he smirked, what he smells like, or the sound of his voice? That's the only version of Bram that's still alive. The Bram inside my head.