I wont.

Let go.
No.



The only thing you ever asked of me, is that I smiled.
We'd be sitting at the kitchen table, you with your arms crossed resting on the table, exchanging awkward conversation. I'd avoid eye contact and stare at the colossal painting near your head and hope not to offend you.
It was a tough spot in my life, we both knew that. I came dressed head to toe in black, slouched over in the chair, occasionally smiling at Indigo as she shyly went about business - carrying around her little dolls and sitting on the couch next to mummy.
I'd feel your eyes fix on to the side of my face, that gradually turned red from holding in nervous laughter. You'd start to laugh and say
"N'aww Wallea, smile!"
That's all you'd ever ask, that I'd smile, and be happy.

I didn't go to your wedding, December 2nd, was it?
I'm so sorry I didn't come.
I was hurt that I didn't get a proper invite, it was Janice's name next to dads... not mine. But I know you wouldn't have done it on purpose, I just didn't want her to take over that aspect of my life, too. I was friends with you first, why does she get an invite?
I'll never forgive myself for that.
We hit a bird that day, right in the middle of me talking about you.
I should've seen it coming.


I remember the last day I saw you.
You had changed so much.
I didn't want to hug you good bye, because I was afraid it'd be too final then.

I wish I did hug you.
I wish I could tell you thank you, for everything.
Thank you for almost getting me in to meet Frank Woodley, thank you for getting me his signature. Thank you for being the only person there when I represented my primary school playing the recorder. Thank you for standing by and being a great friend to my father. Thank you for being so accepting of me, of who I am. Thank you for believing in me, even if I refused to smile some times. Thank you for being you, for bringing your two amazing children into the world, for loving Kirsty. Thank you for making me smile all those times, for I am sure I have lost them since.

They told me you were better, they told me it was gone.
Then they said two weeks, a few weeks before my birthday.
They said you'd still be there.
I delayed my plane trip back, in the belief you'd still be around for school holidays.

But you weren't.
And I never got to see you again.