A tender touch. An ever so caressing stroke of your finger on my arm. And nothing’s ever really forgotten. I put away everything you ever meant to me and I try to remember you as Bill. But something, not so deep inside of me at all, is telling me you were not just Bill.

My dearest, you are so much more than just a name.

There is no love song in this whole freaking world that is able to say I love you the way I mean it. The whole of my life still isn’t utterly filled, it would have to just stand still and fall to the depths. But I feel as if I’m never going to be able to fill the rest of it up, and I wish it was as easy as pouring a drink.

Right now, I’ve got my goal clear. I know what I’m supposed to do and frankly, I’m already busy doing it. This was different just a few days ago. A million possible endings and you were likely to end up with three possibilities. Either you’d die, you’d survive, or you’d stay alive and die later anyway. The third one is in any way inevitable for everyone, but in your case… well, I guess we know what I mean. I can’t help but wonder if it would have been any easier if we knew what you were going to end up with in the first place, because not knowing all the time really fucked with my head and some others as well. I mean, either you’d stay or you’d go? What the hell was I supposed to do with that? The choice was easy. But that was the whole point, I guess – it had never been a choice.

Now I’m back to where I started. I need to get things straight, Bill. You must know this is hard for me, but I can’t sit here and let things happen without it involving me, can I? It’s not like, now that you’re gone, I can suddenly go and not give a shit about things anymore. As a matter of fact, I feel like I’m supposed to care even more for you now that you’re not here to be cared for any longer. That doesn’t really make sense, now does it? Well shit, we’re no longer talking in sensible ways anyway.

I was there. I was there for you all the time.

… God, what am I saying. I wasn’t fucking there for you! Remember when the ‘big news’ came and you did nothing but stare into the distance, as if it would take you your whole further life to let it sink in. And then there was me, your big brother, crying his eyes out, and it was you who ended up comforting me, covering my forehead with little kisses to keep me calm. And I so desperately needed to go and see Samy Deluxe in concert, even though you were lying in bed looking like a vegetable, nearly barfing your guts out, after you had your very first chemo. Good fucking brother I was.
But I need to get this off my shoulders, I have to tell you. It was never my intention. Okay? I know you know, but it eats me up inside that I was never able to tell you myself. In person. All those times when it got hard and I hid like a cry-baby, you have to know; I didn’t just forget about you. It sort of went like this… I’d think about what you would want me to do, and then I kind of picked up the lines you hear in the movies; Bill would’ve wanted it, he would’ve wanted me to have fun.

I know now, I should have thought the other way around. Should’ve thought whether you’d wanted me to be gone every time you needed me the most.

There. I got it off my chest. It feels different. Heavier, I suppose. Was it stupid to think this might make my heart feel lighter, even just for a tiny bit? Loaded hearts are no use, they just drag you down to the bottom. They’re too fucking heavy.

Now that I’m doing this, trying to get things straights, I wonder what I’m really supposed to say. Before all this, everything seemed like one big mess, like when you had thrown all my toys out of the window with that huge fight and my stuff was all over the pavement.

Jesus fuck. You should see me, Bill. Poor little fucker sitting on the swing, crying his eyes out. This is the playground we used to play in, at the kindergarten we used to go to. Back then, when it was still impossible for people to remember who was Billy and who was Tomi.
Still, I’m actually kind of glad you can’t see me right now. You’ve seen me cry too many times than you should have, because tears never helped anybody feel better. At least not for you, that is. I am so extremely exhausted of being weak all the time, Bill. You were so strong, but your body just collapsed. What’s my excuse?

Anyway, it doesn’t seem that complicated anymore now. I’m afraid this wasn’t the help I was hoping for at all. Talking about you in past simple was never something I’d wanted to do. You’re supposed to be here with me, Bill. Supposed to be my twin brother and hate me and love me and laugh with me and cry with me. I needed only one person.

AND IT’S THAT ONE PERSON THAT GETS TAKEN AWAY FROM ME.

I guess there’s no cure for losing the biggest part of you. But, you know right, like the gay guy in the funny clothes once said: the show must go on. Even mine.


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