John Carlos Tapia,

July 23th.
A day that will always haunt me; a day that I will forever regret.

I saw you that evening. Sitting there on the couch as I was waiting for mom to get ready so I can bring her to the movies and then to my new apartment. We were going to watch The Conjuring.
I was really considering inviting you, but it had been awhile since I had taken mom out by herself, and I had already taken you to see Man of Steel with Daniel. You guys wanted to see Iron Man 3 but I insisted we see Man of Steel. 
I'm sorry for robbing you of the chance to see that movie.
The three of us [you, mom, and I] always watched horror movies together.
You looked so sad.
Why didn't I say anything?!
I was a coward; too prideful.
No.
I just really wanted to have a night with mom.
WHY didn't you ask me to come?
Because you never wanted to feel like a burden.
I should have noticed something was up when you didn't smile at me nor give me a hug.
I rarely went up to the attic into your awesome room.
All my fault.
I shouldn't have ever moved out.
It hasn't even been a year being out on my own and this is what happens.
That day, when Brandon lost what was precious to him, I devoted myself to give my siblings more time. But that's when I started giving less time to you.
We had an argument a couple weeks before about me forgetting to go upstairs and see you to check your new vinyls.
I grew so distant. 
We had spent our entire lives together up until we became adults. Mom made us do everything together.
Boy Scouts, camping, after-school programs, even dress the same. I watched out for you and you watched out for me.
You had a disability that was invisible to the naked eye.
Mom always put me in-charge of managing the money and make sure you stayed out of trouble.
That sunny afternoon, at the YMCA after-school program, when you got hit by a car. I got in so much trouble because I stopped watching you.

I always acted like the bigger guy. Like, as if I were the older brother.
I built a lot of pride.
I would always say, "Be safe, John." whenever we departed ways.
I truly cared about you.

You were always so full of humility, while I was so full of pride.
You loved me consistently, unconditionally, and openly.
You always bragged about me to all of your friends; believing in me when I didn't.
No matter the circumstances, the effects of your disability, and me feeling like the older brother, you were truly, my older brother.

I love you John.
I hide it pretty well, but this it's killing me inside. I'm afraid to live life without you in it.
I could always talk to you with you listening to every word I say. You looked up to me, as I secretly looked up to you.

You taught me how to shave, introduced me to music, showed me what it's like to love and give love, and you taught me to never give up on your dreams, no matter how big they are. You always had big dreams, even when you felt so small.

The police believe it was an accident.
It makes sense since nothing seems to add up. I know you too well.

I tried ending my life last month. Hoping I'd be where you are.
I just couldn't do it. How could you?

I was supposed to be your best man. You had always told me that.
WHAT THE FUCK.
HOW COULD YOU DO THIS.

Those words I have continuously cried out.

Maybe it was for the best. Mom was always so worried about how you'd end up in the future.
But, God has you now?

There was so much I could have done with you now that we were adults. I just had to work full-time and move out. I just HAD to.

I rededicated my life to God, again.
I've really fucked up my life, John.
Maybe if never strayed from the path, would you still be here?

Apart of me wants to help and reach out to those like you, bro.
But another part of me wants to not give a fuck and rot in Hell.

It's soo hard.
I have to keep fighting and not give up.
No matter how much it hurts.
No matter how much I cry.
No matter how much I just want to kill myself.

I do this for you.

I am fighting for you, John.

I just wish you could have been there when we grow old and help me get through the sad moments to come when we will inevitably lose Mom, or any of our other siblings.


I feel so alone now.