Reverend James Sterling Phillips II, technically the third.
Well...
Since no one I know in my immediate vicinity reads this, I feel it is safe and okay to type everything here, as is custom.
James killed himself last night. About 1:00 AM, from what I gather. He hung himself, with one of his scarves. Oh, his scarves. They were him. His glasses. And his scarves. And coats. And... James. His hairspray. His chainsmoking habits. His hot cocoa and his DragonForce shirt. The word "suicide" echoes hollowly through my head, knowing now what it really means, what not just the definition of the word is but also the emotion paired with it.
Suicide.
There it is. There is death, then there is James. The two just don't seem to click together very easily. Nothing really clicks today. Nothing at all. What is there here?
James - James. James. There is no "the guys" without James. Peter, James, Tyler, Danny - my best friends, my best friends in the world. And now he's gone. He's the person I've been friends with continually the longest - from before AJF to now.
I don't think I even have any pictures with him.
What is there to do? Where is the thing we're waiting for? When is he going to walk in the door and say, "Hey guys, I TOTALLY got you that time, hahahaha!"
His laugh keeps echoing through my mind, and I keep hearing it when I hear someone laugh faintly. I swear I saw him today, about six times. There he was. But he wasn't. Not quite.
But he'll always be here, you know. He'll always be here because we will keep him here, and he'll never leave our hearts. Because he was, and still is, James Sterling Phillips II, and he was like my little brother. And I told him so. And I would like to think he believed it. Because I love him like I would my own blood. Nothing will change that, not even death. I hope it is an open casket funeral. I need to see him again. Tell him that everything will be alright, eventually. Maybe yell at him. Cry. Sob. Kiss his cheek. But it'll be much colder than usual...
Where is he? Where is he when we need him the most? Ironically, it is because he is dead... he'd probably laugh at that. Irony. Hah!
But now he will forever preserved as a young man, a young man who had dreams and wanted to do things with his life, loved to sing, loved to perform, loved having fun. Loved being spontaneous and doing crazy things. Being crazy. Being... James.
Oh, James. Why? We would have done everything for you if you'd just asked. If if if.
James Sterling Phillips II. I fucking love you. We all do.
Since no one I know in my immediate vicinity reads this, I feel it is safe and okay to type everything here, as is custom.
James killed himself last night. About 1:00 AM, from what I gather. He hung himself, with one of his scarves. Oh, his scarves. They were him. His glasses. And his scarves. And coats. And... James. His hairspray. His chainsmoking habits. His hot cocoa and his DragonForce shirt. The word "suicide" echoes hollowly through my head, knowing now what it really means, what not just the definition of the word is but also the emotion paired with it.
Suicide.
There it is. There is death, then there is James. The two just don't seem to click together very easily. Nothing really clicks today. Nothing at all. What is there here?
James - James. James. There is no "the guys" without James. Peter, James, Tyler, Danny - my best friends, my best friends in the world. And now he's gone. He's the person I've been friends with continually the longest - from before AJF to now.
I don't think I even have any pictures with him.
What is there to do? Where is the thing we're waiting for? When is he going to walk in the door and say, "Hey guys, I TOTALLY got you that time, hahahaha!"
His laugh keeps echoing through my mind, and I keep hearing it when I hear someone laugh faintly. I swear I saw him today, about six times. There he was. But he wasn't. Not quite.
But he'll always be here, you know. He'll always be here because we will keep him here, and he'll never leave our hearts. Because he was, and still is, James Sterling Phillips II, and he was like my little brother. And I told him so. And I would like to think he believed it. Because I love him like I would my own blood. Nothing will change that, not even death. I hope it is an open casket funeral. I need to see him again. Tell him that everything will be alright, eventually. Maybe yell at him. Cry. Sob. Kiss his cheek. But it'll be much colder than usual...
Where is he? Where is he when we need him the most? Ironically, it is because he is dead... he'd probably laugh at that. Irony. Hah!
But now he will forever preserved as a young man, a young man who had dreams and wanted to do things with his life, loved to sing, loved to perform, loved having fun. Loved being spontaneous and doing crazy things. Being crazy. Being... James.
Oh, James. Why? We would have done everything for you if you'd just asked. If if if.
James Sterling Phillips II. I fucking love you. We all do.