Grief.

Your mother takes you by the hand. Her skin is cold to the touch and you can tell by the look on her face that she has been crying. As you walk together, she admits that she has bad news. Every last muscle in your stomach tenses up as if preparing for a swift and brutal punch. You know your world is about to change, turn upside down, or come to a complete and sudden stop, so you try to brace yourself, but you end up less prepared than a deer that has unknowingly walked out in front of a speeding car. Finally, she says it: "Tyler is dead." Time itself seems to freeze; its bitter chill crushing your heart into pieces and scattering them in directions you cannot follow. And yet, seemingly faster than the speed of light, life deals another harsh blow: "He committed suicide." Denial, denial, denial is what you turn to. There is only one Tyler she could be speaking of, but it can't be the Tyler who, just a few months earlier, had told you that he would never have it in him to do such a thing. It can't be the Tyler who, just a few days earlier, told you that he would always be there for you. How could it be? You get that feeling... the one you get right before you wake up from a nightmare. It will be over soon. In just a few seconds you will open your eyes, the morning light will flood your vision, and everything will be okay. All you have to do it wait it out. You blink once, but when you open your eyes again you're still in hell. You blink twice. Nothing changes. And then it sinks in; this nightmare is inside of reality and you're not going to wake up. What's worse, you're not going to see him again in this life. You fight. Denial, denial, denial, again and again and again. Your shattered heart says no, but you can literally feel the darkness saying yes. The struggle is like being in the ring with a demon, blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back, and in mere seconds, you are down and out. You throw in the towel; you give up the fight. Instead of bloodied and bruised, you are left numb. Time feels frozen as you take your next steps, making you feel as though you're walking against the current of a violent, raging river. You can't feel anything, not even the wind beating against you. Your mind shuts down. The only thought you can muster is a picture of his face and the sound of his name, but already his face seems like a distant memory that is still fading. You muster up the courage to share the bad news with a few of your loved ones. They open their arms to you, but it means nothing, because they are not his open arms. The only person you want to see is the one person you will never see again.

Before you know it you're sitting in the car on your way to meet your grieving family. Your eyes are stuck on the dark clouds that loom above. Your heart suddenly breaks again as you realize that your loved one was in pain. Pain so terrible that it killed him. A young man who deserved nothing less than the best in life was hurting. Your cousin, your brother-figure, one of your heroes who you looked up to with so much adoration, was slain by an unbearable hurt. How you wish you could have traded places with him, even for a day, an hour, a minute, a second... even a single moment. But no. You're too late. He is gone. You know he is, and yet, as you sit with your family, you still wait eagerly to see him walk through the door. Oh how you would pound your angry little fists into his stomach, begging him to never scare you like this again. Oh, how you would leap into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and crying for joy, threatening to never let go. But with each passing moment, you realize that none of this is going to happen. You've had your last embrace with him. You look at your family. For the first time ever, it is incomplete. "All of us cousins..." will no longer be a true claim, because "all of us..." is missing one. There is a hole in your family and nothing or no one can fill it.

At night, your last thought is of him. Every time you stir in your bed, your thoughts are on him. And then when you finally wake up in the morning, your first thought is of him. Was it a dream after all? You wonder. But deep down you know the answer is no. Tyler is gone. You repeat the same process each night and morning. In the coming days you discover that everything reminds you of him. Birds chirping, rain falling, red hoodies, Mexican food, pizza, every song you hear, blue skies, laughter... everything. You are surrounded by love, condolence, hugs, words of encouragement, sorrow, and everything a person needs to get through such a time. But it all makes you sad, because no amount of love will bring him back, and then you have to wonder, what amount of love did he need? Could your love have been enough to keep him here?

A full week passes and it's time to say goodbye. You are still hurting no less than before, but acceptance comes. You think back to the life you had with him, and you know that you must now face life without him somehow. Your only hope is that you can carry his legacy and memories with you forever, so that the world might know what a great and wonderful young man he truly was. You know that you have to; you have to hold him tightly in your heart. So you close your eyes, take a breath....... and begin.