[ WP ] Write the letter that you always wanted to , but never did .

Hey brother, 
 
 I ’ m sorry. 
 
 I have a good life. One that I probably shouldn ’ t have. It all changed after the accident. It should be your life. 
 
 I know that I was a big asshole back then. We had some very good times and the other times were me hating you or you hating me. Scratch that. I don ’ t think you ever hated me. 
 
 I never thought I ’ d live pass 20. 23 at the latest. So, I lived that way as well. I didn ’ t give a shit. The family “ cared ”. But you and Rachael, in retrospect, cared. So many signs. So many times reaching out. I ’ m such an asshole. 
 
 When you died everything changed. Everything to everybody we know. It was surreal. Our sister Linda grew confidence somewhere and went to school out west. She ended up moving out there and has a great happy life. 
 
 I got my shit together. There were bumps, but I realized very quickly how much of asshole I was and tried to change. It was more for the sake of mom and dad than anything else. I could n't bear the thought of hurting them anymore. 
 
 Rachael never got over you. Every boyfriend, fiancee or husband she had she would compare to you. She would always confide in them about the accident. Always. And always how you saved her life that day. Always. She eventually married and had some kids. But she still talked to mom and dad like they were the grandparents. They were the kids that “ should have been yours ”. You saved her life that day, but something broke inside. It never healed, the wound as fresh as the day we had to pull the plug on you. What a horrible day. 
 
 There was a time that Rachael kept calling me to get together. Not just a time, but times, over years. It was like she wanted to replace you with me. Man, what do you do? So broken. I never met with her other than family events. I didn ’ t know what to do. 
 
 Your old friends fell apart over the years as well. There was always a cloud over every gathering that related to your death or about Rachael contacting them for this or that. Even now, if I talk to any of them, there seems to be sad sense of reminiscence and nostalgia. It has been years and they won ’ t let go of the sadness. Sometimes it seems like they let it go, but it ends up finding its way back somehow, whether it is a friend of a friend that asks about you or a story about what Rachael did lately and how she can ’ t let go. 
 
 Anyway, I eventually met someone. She ’ s funny and kind and my best friend. She ’ s way too good for me. I really don ’ t know how it happened. I mean, I know how, but it doesn ’ t make sense that she would have interest in me. 
 
 We have a good marriage, a good living, a good life and great kids. Everyone says they have “ great kids ”, but they are. They are much better than me. Smarter, kinder, braver…better. 
 
 I see all that I have and can ’ t help think that it all should have been yours. 
 
 You were the guy doing the right thing. You were the guy with the fiancee. You were the guy that didn ’ t drink too much and didn ’ t do drugs. You were the guy that gave a shit. You were the guy that mom and dad talked about all the time. How happy they were when talking about you. 
 
 You were the guy I hated so much at times. You were what I couldn ’ t be. What I shouldn ’ t be. What I didn ’ t want to be. You were lame. Cheesy. You didn ’ t “ understand ” why it was important for me to do the things I did. Why it was important to me to break mom and dad ’ s heart every day. Make them feel ashamed. Man, I was an asshole. 
 
 You and Rachel tried so hard to get to me. You would take me places and do things with me. Sure, I was forced, but it always turned out better than I thought. You were reaching out in the best way one can imagine. I didn ’ t get. I didn ’ t get it until the day of the accident. Early that day, I kept thinking about how mom always had dreams of me dying in an accident like that. You both were taking me on a trip where the risk of it was much higher, so I couldn ’ t help but to think about it. I kept thinking, “ what if mom ’ s dream comes true? ”. 
 
 I realized I was OK with that. I realized that maybe that was for the best if it happened. I also realized that what you and Rachael were doing for me and loved you for it. I figured if such an accident happened, then so be it. I wasn ’ t afraid of dying. I was just happy that I finally “ got it ” and happy thinking about the good life that you two would have. I wish I told you before we got there how much I appreciated you and that I “ got it ”. How much I loved you for it. 
 
 I wish it was me. 
 
 But it wasn ’ t me. It was you. 
 
 Mom ’ s dreams about me dying in an accident like that stopped occurring after that day. It wasn ’ t me in the dream. 
 
 It was supposed be me though. It was supposed to be me. And now, the things you loved are broken and I have so much. I have what should have been yours. 
 
 I don ’ t know what to do or what I could do. I ’ m just so, so sorry. 
 
 The life I ’ m living is yours and the life you had, the people you loved most, they are broken and it seems like they will always be broken. 
 
 Somehow I feel like I stole everything from you. I know it sounds silly, but I did. I never deserved all this. This wasn ’ t meant to be mine. 
 
 I love you brother and miss you. Please forgive me.
