Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds

This was a poem of mine from a long time ago when my best friend passed away from NF. I revamped it and turned it into a letter, which I think is a much better representation of my emotions at that time.

This is for you, Jam,

Time will never be capable of healing the forever wounded heart. Some say it's only a temporary thing; I beg to differ. So many emotions become clouded with time, and only when the skies turn grey does honesty take the lead. True opinions are shrouded in the lies of yesterday.

The past is no doubt hard to forget, and the future is much harder to predict. You walked into my life and I knew I couldn't let you leave. Not now, not ever. You and I were not today, nor tomorrow, but we were forever. We were best friends since the moment you dared to steal my crayons. And yes, it might be cliched, but I loved every second of detention knowing that it was with my best friend--the one person I wished was my brother.

You knew you always had my heart, and I pray you've kept it safe up there. You're so far away, but yet you're still so close I can almost hear your heartbeat at night or feel you throwing stuff at me like you used to. Not even death can break us apart. We were inseperable when you were here and we're still just as inseperable. Just because I can't see you anymore doesn't mean I'm ever going to forget that I love you and will until the end of time. 

You're my other half. You were the glue that held me together when everything else fell apart. I could always lean on you for support and I thought that was one of the best things about you, besides the fact that my cheeks physically ached from smiling so much when I was with you.

I remember when I said I felt empty and alone because you abandoned me--and I know that was just a temporary thing to feel like you just up and left. But honestly, after the grieving process and all, I realized this too: I think the last stage is acceptance, acceptance that you're gone...but you aren't gone. You're still here, in my heart, in my memories. I love you to the end of the galaxy, Jam.

I even remember that day when I got tired of calling you Benjamin all the time so I called you Jam and you called me Jelly. We thought they were the coolest nicknames, but then again, we were five, what the hell did we know about being cool?

I still remember our favorite joke--I don't even see why we found it funny at all. And I just have to end this letter with that one line--we used to say it so much it was like our sound bite.

The bear really was gay, Jam.

The End

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