I am not good at poetry, maybe I am not even good at telling stories. But one thing is important, I am trying to be a good storyteller.

When you left, I wasn't sad. I thought it was a joke. Your joke to us. You just left home ( I just let you go), and I thought that you came back just a couple days after. I hoped that you came back.

"This isn't true, it couldn't be true," I screamed that evening.

But it was true. You were gone and everything in my life was ruined. That wasn't expected that you would disappear from my life. I took you for granted all my life. This was a mistake. Never take anything for granted in your life.

We were at your funeral, and I wanted to laugh. I didn't know what was so funny, but I can't be sad at funerals. Laughing is my defensive reflex.

After two years I still secretly hoped that you would play a game with us. That, you came back. Like Sherlock in the serial. I wasn't a child anymore, but I had this childish imagination.

That year I knew that you never came back. NEVER is a terrible word. Never in this life. I realized that you are really gone. I was sad. I cried for many days. I felt lonely. No one wanted to talk about you. Like you never exist.

Life went further.

I went to a high school. Every single day I go to school by train. I didn't mind. Some people were everytime angry, when trains had delays because on our way was a train jumper. It happened regularly in the same place. Like every third month in a year. It was weird. Initially I was sad because the jumper definitely wasn't a bad person. He just didn't see another option.

Once it was directly under our train when we went from school to hometown. We must get out from the train in some station and had another transport. Most people were angry, but I wasn't. I just hope that he did it well. I always hoped they succeeded because it must be a terrible feeling when you can't even kill yourself anymore.

Five years after you gone, we learned in school about suicide. Pedagogy was boring all the time, but this lesson was interesting. We talked about socially pathological manners and suicide was also there. It was interesting because I liked talking about suicide.

,,The suicide is bad. People are stupid, when they want to die and commited suicide" said my classmate. I was very angry. I yelled at her. We argued in the middle of the lesson and in front of all the classmates. They must think that I am mad and maybe not mentally healthy.

I was eighteen and formally I was an adult, but mentally still a child. My mum had a new family, I was a little bit sad, but never had a problem with them. My sister also established a new family because she got married. Both of them were happy and I felt alone.

One year after I fell in love. I think I will be happy. But I wasn't because we broke up so early. 

 Every year I was sad, when mum had a birthday because it was also the anniversary of your death. You must have a very good sense of humor. But I was worried. Every year we celebrate her birthday another day.

Everything was different in the year when the epidemic of covid began. We moved and I lived in the two places. With my sister and her family. But also, with my mum and her family. It was horrible. I hate second place. New family wanted to celebrate mum's birthday on the date, when they are. I was angry again.

,,This is not a good day," I cried. I hated her behavior.

This year I also graduated from high school and went to study in the history department in university. You would be proud of me. In high school we had very good teachers of Czech and literature. He could teach us well because he loved speaking about literature. I liked him more than any other, maybe as much as isn't possible. He always said: ,"Poets are the spice of life." I trust him. I loved Literature and History because it reminded me of you.

Eight years after you left, mum got married again. Everyone was happy. Me too. Actually I liked that wedding. But I will never forget you, don't worry.

Last year we talked about everything with my sister, and I heard many of her conspiracy theories. Some were a little bit crazier and some maybe had trust core. Who knows. It doesn't matter. Not now. I also had a couple of dreams. During those nine years I haven't had many dreams about you, I don't know why. I saw you but never talked with you. Never mind.

Last year I also met a new friend, maybe from previous lives. Lucky me, he is my best friend. He helped me with this thing. I called him Mr. Sun because he could put a smile on my face, and I am in the mood to laugh at everything. It's like magic. Just deal with it. Nothing else remains. So, I did it. It was hard. It takes a lot of time. But looking back at the past isn't very profitable. It hurts.

People always say: Time is healing. No matter how bad something looks, it will get better in time. Maybe it is true, maybe not.

Today it is ten years since your death. You choose another place to go. I am not angry. I am not sad. I am fine with that. Really.

Nevermind. I was just a child, when did you gone. Maybe I could be an adult now. But never forget that day. That day of broken dreams. But now when I remember you, I will have a smile on my face. I maybe forget some details but never forget you.