• Noon and afternoon making all the rules, underneath, or above the surface. In the face of loss we had no fear, for we had each others hands. I write these complex paragraphs over and over again until I get the final draft safely tucked within these sacred pages. It was after your departure did we decide to write it all down, the memoirs of our faith in each others hearts... Catatonia takes over my body, there was no way to escape the truth of your passing in those most important moments. Who would ever take a life such as yours? So optimistic, so bold... You viewed the world flawlessly compromised to disappoint, but inside you knew it was a matter of time until we all were happy, until we found our place. I want to scribble in little lies, to make it seem like I was a better person, but in the end I always end up looking half less than good, more than that much bad... Horrible people could have the nicest outlooks on existence, but I always viewed myself as ugly, as mean. "like it matters," you would say to me; your smile still effervescent as always. I find myself struggling to remember your face, the way you look, the way you laughed... The way you smiled... Icried the most that day because I had such regrets, regrets that a friend shouldn't have to carry; regrets that only adults should have to deal with. Then again, it was never our chance, we were always the ones who had to force ourselves to learn and understand incomprehensible things... It's like a never ending cycle, once I start to write about you I see no conscious end to this; it always seems like i'm forgetting to add something, that there is always that much more to savor. It isn't supposed to be this way, and it is. You aren't supposed to be gone, but here again it is so. Does it make me foolish to write a letter that will never reach you? Or say goodbye to someone who has left me far behind? I close my eyes... I close my eyes; and I feel your hand in mine, and everything makes sense again. In the face of loss I will have no fear. I must write what must b written, only because it is my purpose to do so. You are with me, and I'm with you.