Your Last Message

Dear Vic,

Your sister called me on June 13 to deliver the news - the kind of news that doesn’t feel real at first. That doesn’t register, even when you hear it out loud.

I texted you right after, not knowing what else to do. I wrote:
"Your sister called me. Is there anything I can do for you?"

You replied:
"Visit before I die."

And that broke me.

I stared at your message for so long, unable to process that this might be the last thing you’d ever say to me. I couldn’t comprehend it. Couldn’t believe that this was where we’d ended up - after everything.

Yes, we had conflicts. We were tangled in misunderstandings, hurt, and distance. But I never - not for a second - wished you harm. Never wished you pain.

I wanted you to stay.
To get better.
To come back to us - maybe not as we once were, but still us in some form.
Still a family. Still tethered by love, even if broken love.

But now you can’t.

You’re gone.
And all I have left are words I can’t unsay, memories I can’t relive, and the ache of that final message blinking back at me.

"Visit before I die."

I did.
And I hope, somehow, it meant something to you that I came.

Love,
— N

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