Dearest Jeff.
It's been 3 years since Jeff has gotten into a car accident. While riding his motorcycle, Jeff was hit by a car that ran a red light. Three years ago, he came out of the hospital alive. We prayed to about 5 different gods, thanking them for Jeff's health.
But now, three years later, Jeff's in the hospital with a brain tumor, brain hemorrhage, and with his body organs beginning to falter one by one. After another test, doctors may even declare him to be brain dead, and pull the plug on his life support. My cousin, in his mid twenties, is dying.
Why? Because of the incident that happened three years ago. Because some young, ignorant and immature idiot ran a red light.
Where's the guy now? He's probably fine, celebrating the holidays merrily with his family. Without a care or clue about my cousin, he's probably out living life as if he never even got into an accident three years ago.
I can't stand it. I can't stand the fact that my cousin has been dying in the hospital for the past few months, and the guy who did the damage has no fucking clue as to what he's done. I can't stand the fact that my cousins weren't able to gain anything from suing him, because he "didn't have anything to give". I hate the fact that nothing happened to him after he ripped my cousin's family to shreds. I can't forgive the man. Ever. I wish I knew his name. I don't know what I'd do with it, but I wish I knew it.
In truth, I'm not really that close with Jeff. Despite living about 3 blocks away from my house, we never really hung out. Of course, this was expected. He's about 7/8 years older than me. But in the end, he's still my cousin. Jeff's just..Jeff. As someone who's always been around, it's hard to imagine him gone. It's hard to know that he'll be gone. I mean, just two summers ago he took me bowling. He looked so normal. Why is he at this state now? What went wrong? What did Jeff do to deserve this? I don't understand.
You know, despite not being close to him, I was always sort of optimistic about his condition. Like I said, I could never really imagine him gone. In the back of my mind, I always imagined he'd get better, and that he'd be the same as he was. I always imagined that I'd see him again in one piece. I knew that I should have known better, that realistically, he wouldn't be Jeff again. He wouldn't come back in one piece like I imagined he would. I guess, despite being optimistic, I also sort of knew this day would come.
So why does it hurt so much more to hear it come from the doctors? To hear them say that "it's nearly impossible for him to get better again"? I've never cried for Jeff these past three years, so why am I crying now? Secretly, I've always wondered why I haven't cried for Jeff these past few years. After all, he's my cousin. Why haven't I been crying for him? Why haven't I felt the deep sorrow, as I should have? Is it too late for me to shed these tears for him? Is it too late for me to realize that I'm his cousin, and that I should be sad for his condition? I guess I'll never know. Or maybe, when I do know, I'll probably dislike myself even more.
I don't know what to say anymore.
But now, three years later, Jeff's in the hospital with a brain tumor, brain hemorrhage, and with his body organs beginning to falter one by one. After another test, doctors may even declare him to be brain dead, and pull the plug on his life support. My cousin, in his mid twenties, is dying.
Why? Because of the incident that happened three years ago. Because some young, ignorant and immature idiot ran a red light.
Where's the guy now? He's probably fine, celebrating the holidays merrily with his family. Without a care or clue about my cousin, he's probably out living life as if he never even got into an accident three years ago.
I can't stand it. I can't stand the fact that my cousin has been dying in the hospital for the past few months, and the guy who did the damage has no fucking clue as to what he's done. I can't stand the fact that my cousins weren't able to gain anything from suing him, because he "didn't have anything to give". I hate the fact that nothing happened to him after he ripped my cousin's family to shreds. I can't forgive the man. Ever. I wish I knew his name. I don't know what I'd do with it, but I wish I knew it.
In truth, I'm not really that close with Jeff. Despite living about 3 blocks away from my house, we never really hung out. Of course, this was expected. He's about 7/8 years older than me. But in the end, he's still my cousin. Jeff's just..Jeff. As someone who's always been around, it's hard to imagine him gone. It's hard to know that he'll be gone. I mean, just two summers ago he took me bowling. He looked so normal. Why is he at this state now? What went wrong? What did Jeff do to deserve this? I don't understand.
You know, despite not being close to him, I was always sort of optimistic about his condition. Like I said, I could never really imagine him gone. In the back of my mind, I always imagined he'd get better, and that he'd be the same as he was. I always imagined that I'd see him again in one piece. I knew that I should have known better, that realistically, he wouldn't be Jeff again. He wouldn't come back in one piece like I imagined he would. I guess, despite being optimistic, I also sort of knew this day would come.
So why does it hurt so much more to hear it come from the doctors? To hear them say that "it's nearly impossible for him to get better again"? I've never cried for Jeff these past three years, so why am I crying now? Secretly, I've always wondered why I haven't cried for Jeff these past few years. After all, he's my cousin. Why haven't I been crying for him? Why haven't I felt the deep sorrow, as I should have? Is it too late for me to shed these tears for him? Is it too late for me to realize that I'm his cousin, and that I should be sad for his condition? I guess I'll never know. Or maybe, when I do know, I'll probably dislike myself even more.
I don't know what to say anymore.