Hopelessly Devoted - Bradley Will Simpson.

Letter Five.

Bradley;

There’s only so many times I can remember the same memories, relive every last second. But, since the harsh reality is so much crueller, I cling onto them with all my might.

Do you remember the first time you and the boys went on tour? Two in the morning, outside on the cold snowy outskirts of our city, sharing a single coat between us, we thought we were braver than we were. A single piece of fabric buttoned up around us in a miserable attempt to keep somewhat warm, the embrace was tighter than ever.

We were the first ones there, you and I, and even then we were late. Eventually the boys arrived, each having a family member tag along in floods of tears. We remained in our eskimo-style stance, your arms wrapped around my waist as a sign of comfort. We had attempted to say our goodbyes the night before, and of course failed miserably, but with our secret compromise we knew we would be okay. Well, we thought.

As Joe, Dean and Fin arrived and told you that you all had to get on the bus, soon to arrive at the airport, that’s when I felt your body tense. You told me you had no idea how you’d react at those words, if you’d cry, scream, punch something, or not react at all.

As we watched the boys say their teary goodbyes, I knew I had to say mine any second, and let’s be honest, my love, I’ve never been good at goodbyes, have I? You leaned down so your head was next to my ear, and thankfully you spoke before I did.

Despite the compromise, the words you whispered had an undertone of despair, your voice was rapidly becoming choked up and inaudible. The things you told me... Reminded me just how much I loved you. Still do love you. More than anything.

You then handed me something, something that you said would remind me of you whenever I missed you. And that, my love, is what i’m holding right this second, as I write this.

Back in the reluctance of reality, again all I can hear is the hopeless sobs from every room. I would say it’s not normal for three boys of this age to be crying this much, but it goes to show how much you impacted their lives. My life. We all blame ourselves. We should have been there.

I can hear their hushed conversation, now, outside in the hallway. The soft creaks on the wooden floorboards as to, as far as they know, not wake me. I promised them I’d try and get some sleep for the first time in weeks. Of course, I can’t. Not here. Not anywhere a memory of you lays. Which is everywhere.

They’re discussing the best course of action to take regarding your case reopening. One of the sobs in particular stood out, and there was then a bang, someone was slumped against our door, and the sobs got significantly louder.

The other two’s whispers also increased in volume, as well as sincerity. ‘Get up’, ‘You’ll wake her’ and ‘You think we don’t want to just do that?’ were some of the highlights I picked up on, and due to the lack of one voice it was evident which one had broken down.

The other day some fans left a parcel on our doorstep. A scrapbook of you, my darling Bradley. Your finest moments, you and the boys, all the reasons they still do, and forever will, love you. There was even a section on us, including pictures fans had taken of us at various events.

In each one, whether it be holding hands and walking in the sun or searching for each other in a crowd amongst the pouring rain, we looked so happy, genuinely happy, to be noticing each other, be in each other’s presence.

My love, there’s only so many times the boys can cover for each other when I question about the nightly discussions, there’s only so many times I can get them to lie for me and tell the fans I’m fine, just ‘taking a break from everything’. There’s only so many times they can convince me to open up to them and cry together.

The truth is, it’s my life’s mission to find out what happened to abruptly end yours.

It’s my life’s mission to find out what caused you to have left me in amongst the chaos, with or without the boys and the authorities.

Because, my darling, there’s always more than meets the eye.