Oh Nate,
I am more because of your life, and diminished by your death. The weight of “Why?” causes me to fixate on your absence instead of anticipating our eventual reunion.
The weight of “Why?” causes me to shout your name in anger and sorrow while driving, forgetting the depth of love I once used while saying your name.
The weight of “Why?” keeps me in the moments of your life where I am ashamed of my behavior; the times I yelled at you, or stayed at the computer instead of dancing with you.
The weight of “Why?” binds me to this earthly existence and my weaknesses, when there is such strength and peace and love elsewhere.
The weight of “Why?” places more importance on our separation than the time we had you here.
Nate, I am more now than I ever was. You have enriched me more than any loss can take away. I promise to struggle against the weight of “Why?” every day, for you.
