if you had the power of resurrection

My childhood dog. I say that now, but I'm not confident I would hold to that in a real scenario. I do not have the strength. It would likely turn out to be my brother. The hesitation lies in, like my fear of death, fear of the unknown. Who am I to pass judgment on the dead? I, to put it mildly, consistently make errors bordering on the egregious. I do not even know myself. He is tied more thoroughly in the skein of my heart than any other being ever will be. He wanted to die. How could I steal that from him? To watch him wake, whole once again, and see the desolation strike horror in his eyes. Tell him he made the wrong call and that we can make it work this time. "Ty, I've learned so much! It is not as bad here as we thought. Listen to me and fall in my steps, I promise you won't have to feel this way. I feel better! We can be healthy together. I know how to live now. I will teach you" what a thing for me to do. I do not know that. Furthermore, I DON'T know how to live. My craving of his soul, born from love yet destined to deny him the basic respect of choice. Even thinking it through terrifies me. I would not be able to stop myself. Some bleak night he would wake again. To a fucked family in a fucked world. What a thing to do.