Jeremy Joseph Giordano

Site hosted by Angelfire.com: Build your free website today!

January 6th, 1975-April 19th, 1997

It was the house of my dreams with broken windows, tattered shudders and deteriorating brown wood. It stood alone, abandoned and bruised along a country roadside waiting for a breath of life to replenish it, but the life of the new spring approaching would not bring back the house that lost two souls in one fatal shot. The heavens cried the day we laid you to rest as we were left to collect our losses. Had I known it would happen to you my dear brother, I would have sacrificed me. Your empty body carried a soul that touched and graced our lives now only filled with rememberances. It is all there is to cling to. The pictures still stand, more now than ever before, your bed still remains unaltered and Dad is growing angry as to why he can't remember your face or your smile. I caught a glimpse of you the other day sitting in the chair.It seemed real, but you were intangible to me. My eyes, I'm sure of it, were wide open, but my tongue spoke a muted silence. Maybe I was only hallucinating, but I swore it was you sitting right there next to me. Maybe it was just me missing you too much. I do that quite often. My body once felt like it had collapsed and died on me. Maybe that's just my mind telling my body to die. Coldness rushed in and numbness filled the empty spaces through my flesh. From outside of my body a cloud of black plunged it's way through my stomach, my eyes were a mile wide as I told Mom, 'this is it. I'm going to die.I'm too young to die', but all I saw in that moment was black as the memories of yesterday passed me by. It's funny how your eyes only see what they want you to see and the mind paints a pretty picture of black and grey mass. A feeling rushed over me as my heart pounded faster and harder until I couldn't feel it anymore. My thoughts speaking volumes in my head. I was dying, in my head, I was dying. Turns out, it was only a panic attack. I thought for sure I was dead and dreaming. Life changed after that. I was only 19, what did I know about life? It took years to realize, but I was mourning the loss of me. My heart still mourns. Now at 23, I'm far too cynical to even give the light of day, 'the light of day.' There's hope yet, I'm sure. Only time knows where my heart stops and where it goes..

Go back

A news article from Time Magazine