Dear Brother,

I am the age you were when you died.
A shiver ran down my spine as I wrote that. Death and 22 just sound brutal together. I suppose you would agree.
I was 3 that day.
People are surprised when I tell them about you. They don’t believe me when I say I remember you. But I do. At least you should believe it. I remember how you soothed me when I cried, the games we played together, and the toys you brought me. I recall how safe and loved you made me feel. It was such a pure love that, to this day, I search for it everywhere. I look for the love you gave me unconditionally in places that won’t even accept me. I am an older sister. I know how you loved me as an older brother. My older brother. How I yearn for your kind love. How did it disappear so swiftly from the physical world?
I remember reading a book that contained a story about the main character’s sister. She described this sister as someone so peculiar, so naive, so pure. She was so different from the rest; she was so much herself. Then, suddenly, she died in a car accident at a very young age. Just like you. The main character made sense of the situation by saying, “Some people are too impossible for this world.”
You were one of those people. Your kind heart left its mark on a 3-year-old who still cries for you to this day.
You were not a good fit for this world. It pains me to say that. To think that.
I contemplate the things left undone. I think about your girlfriend you left behind. Could she be married now? Does she still miss you? I think about your friends. I watched the videos they made for you.
People loved you. I loved you.
When you died, they told me you were building a playground for me in heaven, and when the time comes, we would meet again. It still brings tears to my cheeks. For a very long time, I believed that, can you imagine?
But, you know, if there is a heaven, I hope you are building the biggest playground for us, for the sake of the times we could not spend together. I hope I meet you there.
Today, I am the age you were when you died, brother.
Your absence hurts.

And I love you,

Your beloved.