Georgia Smits.

5/28/19

Dear George,

It's been two years since you've left, though it feels like an eternity. I feel your absense daily. I miss you. I sat in the car today and realized you should be sitting there instead of me. You should be listening to the radio, laughing your head off with my brother. But you had to leave. You just had to.

I don't think a day has gone by that you have not crossed my mind. Your beautiful smile, your big heart, your fun laughter. I miss you everyday. I wonder what things would be like if you hadn't left this earth. You'd be happy as ever, glad to hop in my brother's car for the ride home. You'd roll the window down and let the breeze run across your face. I'd be sitting right behind you, feeling that breeze, too. Not thinking a thing about what it'd be like without you.

I miss your happy spirit that took a hold of the room. I miss your smile, greeting me as I got into the car. I miss your drama and the boys you'd talk about. I just can't comprehend really what happened. I can't understand that you crashed in an ATV and never came back. I just remember getting in the car that day, wanting to get in the back seat. But catching myself and sitting in the front seat–your seat.

I remember crying myself to sleep. I remember understanding what it's like to lose someone. Understanding what it's like to hurt. To hurt and not know what to do about it. Not knowing who to talk to, what to say, how to deal with myself, how to resume "normalty," how to come back to reality, how to stop the tears from pouring down my face, how to stop the pounding headaches that came with the grief. I remember missing you. I remember a hole. A hole where you should still be, Georgia.

I love you, I miss you, and I will always remember you, George.

Thank you for the memories,

Annika.