If you read this, thank you. Thank you for listening and having the consideration to hear what i have to say. If you don't read this, that's your decision, and frankly it's okay.
My neighbor died a few months ago. He was like a second grandfather to me. He was 64, and died of cancer. He smoked a lot...so i guess it was a matter of pure unfortunate time. I loved him like family, especially since he had none. He had friends visit him here and there, but no family. They all were dead. He knew me since i was born. Throughout the years, we would sit and watch the sun set together and he would always bring me a soda. He would hit golf balls and I would run around like it was the last day on earth and my energy could not be held back by any source. And to be completely honest, I'm not doing this to get faves or comments or anything, I'm sincerely not. I just want people to hear my story. But anyway, after school when I would be walking home i always would arrange the golf balls to form a smiley face. Then later, I would open the gate leading to his house and we would go inside and he'd always teach me some notes on the piano. I would tell him everything about my life. Boys, friends, school, sports..everything. He gave better advice than anyone I have ever known. Some people may ask why I am bringing this up now and not when he died? Because one day when we were walking through the woods, he and I agreed to take better care of the outdoors even when it isn't our trash. We would clean and pick up little things that made a big difference. And today, when I was walking through a field to get to my house‚ I did just that. And instead of it making me think of him, I thought about what they did to his home. They broke down every single wall and tile, they threw out the golf balls, everything was gone. It brought back a feeling of grief and got me to a point of where I don't want to speak. But I do. I hang in there for the simple reason that I know that's what he would've told me to do. But now, I can't tell him anything about my life now and how I'm doing and everything that he would've asked and I looked forward to tell him when i was young. I can't ask questions, I can't go to him when I need consoling, or any other reason that is now made impossible. I miss his advice, and his humor, and our friendship that I can barely describe. I can't tell him about my boyfriend, or my friends, or the new soccer team I'm on, or my new track season. But everyday, I try to remind myself of what he would suggest, and I do.
R.I.P. John, R.I.P.
chicwitnolifesoshemadeawitty