I’ve never been very worried about the things most people consider dangerous. I’ve deployed to war zones; I’ve gone scuba diving; I’ve shot handguns, rifles, bow and arrow. I guess my philosophy always was — if it’s your time to go, it’s just your time. There’s nothing you can do about that. I would rather die performing a dangerous activity than die only wishing I had been brave enough to try.
I don’t know what this means for you. You never had a choice in things. I made every decision for you, and I still go over them in my head, wondering if anything was right. If I hold to my old belief, then nothing I did could have saved you. I can’t handle this. I just don’t know.
She said you would have had problems. Said you might not have survived anyway. I don’t care. I love you. I would have done anything for you. You’re still the most important person in my life. I will always wish you had had a chance to live.
Elephant and I jumped out of a plane today. I wasn’t scared until I faced the open door. It wasn’t real until then, and then it was the first real thing since the pain of losing you. It was the first time in so very long that I felt thankful to be alive.
I promised you I would be okay. I miss you so much, but today’s the first day I believe that might actually be true.
I love you.
