Thursday, 28 April 2016

My letter to you

Dear Jordan

I stare at this blank space for ages, finding it hard to know where to start.

I never intended to make any new friends through cancer. It was something I didn’t want to be associated with at such a young age and I think you were the same at first. By the time I met you, I had made it past that stage and accepted that cancer was a part of me, so I might as well make some positives out of it. Just like becoming your friend was one for me.

It’s bizarre to think and I know the world works in mysterious ways, but somehow I think we were meant to be friends. I hate that we met on a teenage cancer trust ward but it was there in the kitchen that our mum’s had a freaky connection right from the very moment they met and they were so alike it was uncanny. Suddenly we all became a massive part of each other’s lives. As our mum’s friendship grew, it let us get past the awkward “Hi, you alright?” stage whenever we saw each other at the cancer centre to the point where we formed a friendship of our own.

I think cancer gave us a connection that I find it hard to compare with others. Although our diagnoses couldn’t be any more different, we were in the same battle for our lives. A battle that I know you gave your best and even more so. Sometimes in the cancer centre when we were both feeling awful as we were attached to our drips, all I needed was a little smile or smirk from you to know that you knew I was there for you. Maybe not in that exact moment as our brains were being frazzled with chemotherapy, but I would be there for you in any way I could be. At first, we would always bump into each other when one of us was either sitting in a chair attached to machines or cooped up in a bed. So our first hug was a shock to the system when you seemed like a total giant against my 5ft 4 self.

I always enjoyed your company. We watched skins and bitched about the characters together. I don’t know why I’m trying to sugar coat it but to be honest we just had a little bitch about people in general. You watched me play your play station and die as quickly as I started in every game I attempted. We sang along to Justin bieber (don’t lie you know you loved a bit of biebs). We laughed, we spoke almost every day and you loved to send a snap chat picture with what seemed to be your signature pose, the hand in front of the face look. You came to me for advice, even if you didn’t take it; no offence taken, it’s not like girls know everything. We rarely spoke about cancer, which I liked. It was a major thing we had in common yet we seemed to get around it. When we did speak about it, it just made me feel more connected to you as we compared side effects and other annoying thing’s we had to go through. 

It breaks my heart knowing you will never open my last messages to you. It hurts me that even know you was in so much pain, you never moaned to me and let me in on how much you was hurting. It’s sad to know that we will never get to do the things we had planned to do when you were feeling stronger. I always had faith that you would pull through because I saw the fighter within you. But this isn’t about me and what I’m feeling, this is about you. About how much of a loss you will be to this earth and that everyone you ever touched with your kind, gentle soul will now be left with a hole in their hearts. You massively impacted my life in a short space of a year so I cannot begin to imagine how others are hurting but this just proves how much of a lovely, genuine guy you were and always will be.  

I just want to let you know that I wanted to come and see you. At the same time, I didn’t want to go against your wishes as I knew you weren’t prepared for visitors. You said you would tell me when you was feeling up for me to come and see you, something I didn’t realise you wouldn’t be able to tell me again.

My last memories of being with you are nice ones. We just chilled and watched the tv. I knew you was in pain and felt sick but again, you didn’t let me in on how much discomfort you were in. I could see you were tired yet you still told me you weren’t. You had colour in your cheeks which was lovely to see but on the inside I can imagine things weren’t so lovely for you. I haven’t told you this because at the time you might have thought it to be a bit weird, but I’m going to tell you now. That day when our mum’s left to get you some extra medication and you slept, I constantly checked up on you. Peering through your bedroom door to make sure you was okay. Every time Willow would look at me, probably thinking ‘don’t worry I got this’. She was your world and I knew she would look out for you but I couldn’t help but do it myself. I was still there for you even when you couldn’t see it for yourself. 

I now hope in a way that you can do that for me. I’m not forcing it, but it would be nice for you to be there for me even though I can’t see it or you for myself anymore. If I was going to have anyone look over me, I would want it to be you.
I will always be thinking of you and I can’t wait to see you again.

Love always,
Alex. Xx

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