It's been three months. Three months you're gone. It's hard, you know. At the beginning I didn't believe it, I could not believe you're gone, not you. It was impossible. Not someone like you, who lived his life like you did. You loved life, you lived thoroughly. You made mistakes, admittedly of course, but it is not that they will be unable to move. You had a girlfriend who loved you, You had a girlfriend who loved you, and she would have a child with you. She would keep it because you wish, before.. You had find a job purpose. You would have your small life within the family YOU had built. And you ruined all to make bloody. You even bankrupt to kill your sister in the batch. She was not stay with her friends, she was died with you and your mate. And you dare die on the day of the forty years of your mother. You should not have done an accident another day? No? You had to make the pain more? She will can never celebrate her birthday, it does it will be more than his birthday, it will be the "birthday" of your death. It's great for a mother. Especially when it does not already going well. Damn I can't believe you could do this to us. And your father, your father, the one who designed you and still stay strong when needed, who have always helped you even when you had nothing else to fuck steal the dirt bike of your grandfather and leave with, and although he cracked. He does not sleep, so he crying all night. I let you imagine your mother. And your sister. I think it was she who cried the most. You hear finally that you're gone. I can't believe you're gone, I swear, in my mind is the complete goddamn mess, but I'm sure of one thing, you're still here. If you're not physically here, you will be forever in our memories, our pictures, our videos, our records, our minds, our hearts. You will be forever engraved in us, you were a great person. It's maybe stupid to say that, but you joined the angels. One more person to heaven, too soon. Due to an fucking rotten accident. I would like so much that you come back, I love you.
It's really hard to conceive, know that we will meet again. And it's really hard to let you go. ... But sometimes, we have to let go.