I was hurt, so hard. I didn't cry first. You were my father's friend, my sister's godfather. One of those people you cared about but don't think about everyday. But I was sad, maybe because you died, maybe because I didn't get it either. I should, I had the same idea before. Should have told you ? I don't know, how was I supposed to know, how was I supposed to tell you.
When someone's dead, I think about every single moment I shared with them. This is one of the most hurtful steps. I remember when I was eleven, maybe twelve. You wanted to read the stories I've written. My first fiction, about Harry Potter. It was a shitty one and I was so shy I just said no. You didn't miss anything, don't worry. But still, now, I wish I could've told you I was still writing, I was still on it. I wish I could have made you read my own things.
You stupid ass, how could you have done that to your poor wife ? She is so kind, sweet, she deserves better. So unfair, you broke her heart so hard. Not only her you know, but you spend your whole life with her. But I do know more than anyone that, when you want to die, it's not that you don't care about people who care about you, you just don't think about it. You don't want to be caring, for once, you want to be selfish.