I am the victim.
You left me.
I am your lover, your brother, your kid, your niece, your grandchild, your friend.
How could you do this?
How could you cut your life short?

I miss your smile.
I miss laughing with you.
I miss our fights.
I miss our deep conversations.
I miss…you.

Did you not know you were loved?
Did you not know I loved you? I still love you.
What were you thinking?
How could you be so selfish?
How could you!?!

What voices were you listening to?
These voices lied to you.
They said you were someone you were not.
But you listened to them.
You should have chosen to listen to other voices, better voices.

Your life was a gift.
You had a purpose.
Your purpose is left unfinished.
You were not done.
Your life made a difference, but there was more to do.

Jesus loves you.
He always loved you.
When you didn’t feel loved, Jesus loved you.
Jesus cried the day you did this.
Jesus loves you.

I wish you were still here.
I wish we could sit and reminisce.
I wish we could laugh together again.
I wish we could make new memories.
I wish you could hold me as I cry.

I don’t know how to end this.
Let me begin by thanking you.
Thank you for the memories, the good ones.
Let me end by repeating myself.
I miss you. I really really miss you.
(Inspired by one of the suicides in my family.)