Chapter Text
Dear. Gabriel
You died on a Monday.
And I finally get why people hate it so much. Because before I never got it you know..
It was just another day, color coded and given a name. That sat in everyones lives, that some people made seem terrible. Maybe, it was because people considered it the beginning of a new week. But I didn't get that either, if it was A beginning people should see it as an opportunity, to start over to start fresh.
Now? I see why people really can hate a random day so much. Its because though Monday means renewal, it also means continuation. And isn't that ironic, because on the day of continuation, of renewal and rebirth, you were taken from it.
And now Monday's, have an intire new meaning for me. It is not a time for reflection, for starting over and fixing mistakes. It is a continuation to remind me, that I must continue without you. That every Monday I wake up, and I have to realize, you're never coming home.
And I have to continue, have to force myself to live, and it drags open my soul. I never understood before, how living could hurt so much. How continuation was not a blessing, but a curse. Slowly wearing us down, till there is nothing left but dust and sand. I feel like I am nothing left but dust and sand, and yet I continue.
I don't feel alive anymore.
I don't feel anything anymore.
Is this not death? is this not the way it was prescribed, and described in so many teachings? Then how am I still here? Why am I not with you in that grave? Why do I feel as if my body continues but my soul has already left?
I don't understand anything anymore, everything is upside down and lopsided; things my mind cannot comprehend. It is as if your death has caused the loss of my eyesight, and my balance. Everything confuses me now, because before it had meaning and now? it is nothing.
I'm writing this letter on a Monday, because I can not pull myself to Leave my room. I think that maybe? I'll just stay here and not continue. In this world that no longer makes sense, and I am already dead in.
But Dean would come, and he would make me continue, and Cas would by right be his side. And they would kick me out of bed. And make me if nothing else? Go through the motions of living.
I know this because, they've been doing that a lot lately. When I just want to stop, to feel the pull of time, and join you as dust and sand. They keep me forcibly, from that edge.
I guess I should feel grateful, or annoyed. But I don't really feel much of anything, anymore.
I'm just kind of numb, but I was never numb when you were here; And I thought. ' hey, maybe if I could talk to you, I won't feel so numb anymore'.
I don't know if I do really, because you're still gone, and in the end? This is just a piece of paper, that no ones going to read.
But at least for a while, I guess I get to pretend.
I miss you.
Sam