Spread your panda wings and fly

Hi buddy,

It's hard for me to feel like I'm doing this for me, which is the supposed purpose. The reason may be my subconscious not feeling like the deserving one.

Summer 2015, we got in the big argument that one night; I let you stay at my house because my mom and step-dad were in New Orleans.

I felt you were possessed by a demon of addiction and sucking the life from anyone you could.

What our friend Nick said to you when we I brought you to his house; regarding your selfishness and the extraordinary desire to lie, cheat, and steal in order to maintain the mental escape would not leave my head. Every single thing you did I saw through that lens. And felt I had to put you out. When you cried and fought I felt the stab of a spear pierce me in and out, it ripped me apart. But it was also the only way your eyes could maybe open.

It was sad seeing the person who I was closer to than most brothers are with each other, blank and black eyed, acting like a soulless zombie instead of the preppy, joy spreading, colorful person that you were.

When I dropped you in that town and you walked away sobbing with your bags I said something along the lines of the world being better off without you. I hope you know that it was an emotional statement. I think you do know. I struggled with that for a little bit.

Life became gruesome without you to guide me through the fast lane. You always knew how to handle anything. I've always described you as an actual genius. Everyone does. And I'm writing this letter as a way to put my thoughts and prayers into the universe, where you can hear them.

When you overdosed the night I made you go it affected a lot of people, but it made me feel responsible.

You had passed out, even overdosed, many times before. But this particular night, the night I drag you to the middle of nowhere from my house, you die.

I went to the funeral with Nick. I know he treated you very harshly however he didn't know what else to do, and like me, couldn't enable you.

I'll be honest, you'd have been proud of the night we had at the hotel room the night before. Nick's girlfriend, who you met; was a stripper. And she had 2 of her stripper friends there posing for a nude photoshoot on the bed. You would have lost your mind at how cool Nick thought he was sitting back like the big daddy.

A lot of people would say that's disrespectful, but I don't think I even need to explain myself to you. Oz came with us as well. We had an incredibly fun night all in your honor. The next morning arrived and Oz was missing (by the way, remember how much you hated Oz at first. He grew on you). When he returned to the room at last he walked in all disheveled, followed by the red headed stripper. I was the only one by my lonesome that night. Sorry to let you down.

When the next morning came, we woke up late due to no alarms being set and us staying up late the previous night. Your wake was just about to start. I called your brother who I'd never met in person but looks just like you and he told me that it would be my only opportunity to see the body.

I was struggling at that time with substance abuse and didn't have money. Nick got me an Uber. I was the last one to enter the church where I saw the illuminated casket in the front of the altar. I could see something in it. I knew it was you but could not yet make it out well. As I approached I could see your father, mother, little brother and sister all standing along the side.

Seeing you lifeless was surreal. I felt no emotions. I didn't feel mad, sad, nothing. I felt I even had to fake a reaction. I was just in awe, numb.

And the most heartbreaking part for me to watch; was when you were being lowered into the ground. The bawling coming from your mom and sister was so intense. It was a totally new level up from any example of emotional release I've seen. The men of your family each held the girls' shoulders, fighting back tears with just as much intensity in order to provide effective support.

I try to put that into perspective, what your family must've gone through. And what mine would if that happened to me. It seemed that not this, or anything would prove to be a strong enough tragic event to knock any sense into me.

I followed right in your tracks. Carried out the same way of life. My disease took everything. For some reason I kept living and living.

There were times I thought about you and felt jealous towards you getting out of life by accident. Because I was too scared to get out of it on purpose.

The more time passed, the harder I went and the harder life hit. I began facing more rehabs. Then prisons, psych institutions, chronic homelessness.

Sometimes I wonder what you felt like in the very end. And I wonder if it surpassed my deepest depressions. I couldn't ever fathom that devastatingly, dark place.

I'm sorry you've felt that way. I do think you've given me signs. A few things have happened that I noticed were a little peculiar. Everyone always knew you as the panda. The girl who ran the rec program at a rehab showed me a drawing she made of a panda peeking over something saying, "I'm watching over you." Without me ever telling her of you.

Another time when I got out of that facility and moved to CT to live with my dad; At an AA meeting a young woman explained her powers as a witch. I asked her to prove it. What she said is that a young man my age who I was very close with cannot pass to the other side until he knows that I am OK. I really do think you watch over me.

Things didn't go well with my dad, or the girlfriend I had when I was living with him. They both pulled me into a massive fissure. My life skewed into a state comparable to my nightmares. I lost all hope.

I got arrested one final time and during my last jail bid I was evaluated by a team of psychiatrists who decided me to be fit for the psychiatric prison. This made me eligible for one last chance at eradicating my current 36 charges.

The only way I can succeed with this incredible gift of a deal from the court is to get this off of my chest so that both of us can get out of these purgatories of guilt and shame.

At times I ponder if you feel responsible. Seeing as you introduced me to a plethora of substances and taught me everything I knew about that world.

My addiction was never your fault. I was an addict before I ever picked up a drug. The way my mind works and the traits of my character are what make me an addict. And the drugs were bound to come along as what would feel like a solution to the mental illness, whether from you or someone else. If anything you always had love and compassion even through your darkest moments. If you didn't love me so much as your brother, I may have not had someone to guide me so carefully through the possession.

Buddy I want you to be at peace, I want you to be happy. I finally have significant clean time and my life is under control, I am happy at 27. With so much time still. Time that I will enjoy. Then you can enjoy Heaven without having to stress. I have a full-time job, an apartment, a cat, and stability.

Rest.

I'll always love you buddy you know that. And I'll see you someday. I hope you're not exercising up there thinking you'll be more handsome then me when we meet. I am good and happy, I am safe. Thank you for being the truest best friend I will ever know.

Tell Nick I love him too. You two certainly earned your spots in heaven by completely exhausting every ounce of energy on making the world a better place while you were in it. You are now freely welcome to the fruits of your labor.

-Be free