Esther.

I've been avoiding writing about Esther. I haven't felt up to it. I'm still not sure if it's a good idea, seeing as I started crying before I even typed anything. But another part of me feels like I've got this poison in the wound, and the only way to heal is to suck it out myself.

I was sitting in the library, waiting, because I left my wallet out by the PAC and some guy found it and was nice enough to email me and tell me that he wanted to return it. I didn't wanna look like an idiot and have Cupcake Corner or some shit open when he showed up, so I opened Google Reader for the first time in a while. I got my wallet, but I was happy to keep reading, so that's what I did. And I found Arka's post after reading for a bit longer, and I immediately shut my computer, packed my things, and left the library. I even had to stop half-way back to my dorm, because I thought maybe I had forgotten my wallet again.

And now I'm here. I finally read Arka's post, and that was actually what got me to open Blogger. I just made a playlist of twenty-four songs that remind me of Esther, and I'm trying to write this thing, but I don't even know what I'm typing.

I don't remember the last time I talked to Esther. I looked on Skype to try to figure it out, but I still don't have any definitive answers. I can't even explain how much that bothers me. I don't know the last time I told her that I love her. I don't remember the last time I heard that she loves me. And I need some sort of answer. There's all of this hazy, nonspecific bullshit that surrounds death, and all I want is to know that I didn't miss an opportunity to remind her of how much I care about her in her last days with us. Ultimately, I know that she knew how much she means to me. But my motives aren't really for her. They're almost entirely selfish. I need to know that I made her feel loved for my own sake. But I don't know what else to be besides selfish. I'm trying to reach out to those around them, and I'm trying to be comforting, and I really hope that in one way or another I have been. But more than anything, I just want to curl up and tend to my own wounds and think about Esther.

Arka, I know you're not really religious or anything, but I've always sort of interpreted dreams like the one you had as signs of a certain sort. As if they're a symbol of reassurance and comfort; a way of letting us know that whether we can feel it or not, we are still with her, hugging her and telling that we love her. And that everything's going to be okay.

Ultimately, I know that things will be okay. Even when I don't think I can do it for myself anymore, it's people like Esther that give me the will to keep living. I mean, how could I give up on life when she so obviously deserved much, much longer? And when it really comes down to it, her death gives me so much more to live for. I can't live for her, but I firmly believe that I'm still living with her as long as I carry her in my heart, and I refuse to let that little piece of her fade away any sooner than it must.

I just can't stop feeling like I need her. Like I don't know what to do, knowing that she won't sign on Skype sometime tonight and play My Town with me and talk about Abe and the rest of her family. I don't know what to do.

It broke my heart more and more every time she said she was too tired to join the Skype call, because I think underneath it all, I knew that she was slipping away from us. I knew that we were losing what precious little time we had left with her. And I just wanted to cling to her with every once of me. I never ever ever wanted to let her go. I messaged her every time I saw her online, because I was desperate for any interaction I could get. And most of the time, she didn't even respond. And I keep telling myself that she was just too tired. But part of me can't help but think that if she was really that tired, she wouldn't have been visible on Skype in the first place. And part of me doesn't think that her being too exhausted to say hello is much better than her ignoring me.

I would do anything to be able to have just one more regular conversation with her. Just like the ones we had for an entire year. Just one more. That's the one thing I really want.

But it's something I most certainly cannot have. And that's eating me apart.

Esther, I've told you this so many times over the past few weeks, but I constantly find myself needing to say it again. I love you so much. You're my inspiration. My light. My star. I miss you so much that I ache. But I'm so relieved that you no longer have to feel the pain.

Thank you, Esther, for encouraging me to appreciate each day a little bit more. Thank you for making me laugh louder and longer and harder than I remembered I could. Thank you for making memories alongside me that I will cherish for the rest of my life. Thank you for loving so fully. Thank you for being incredibly real and honest and human.

I love you, Esther. I won't ever forget that, and I know you won't either.