Another Sunday letter.
Ian,
I’m mad at you today. It seems like this week was harder than many, but looking back, I think that about almost every week, so maybe it’s just that it’s hard, and as they pass, I forget that. I keep going to things you would have enjoyed. Seeing things you would have loved. And today, I’m mad at you because you gave all that up. You gave all of us up. I’m mad because you didn’t give us a chance to help you.
I know you were hurting, and I’m so sad about that. I wish you’d let me know. I would have fought your demons if I could have. I tried. You were so stubborn. So unbelievably closed-minded about the options you had. You decided you didn’t have any, when you did, and if you’d given them a chance, you may still be here. You may have stopped hurting so much. You may have started healing.
But you didn’t. And so I’m mad at you today.
I miss you, you jackass.
-Iris
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