every night i come home and think about you, i think about how lucky everyone else must feel to live in your world and how awful it is that i can't. how unfair it is that i never again will. i'll never again pick up my phone to see your name light up the screen, a mindless reminder that, "hey, you still exist!” how am i even supposed to know if you're still alive? what if you died? how many days would pass by before i found out you were dead? how many days are going to pass by before i find out the world has lost you? i’ll count each day as its own regret. days i couldn’t use to remind you how much i miss my friend. dead or alive, i’m going to live a whole life without you in it.

it’s so surreal. one of us might die before we ever get the chance to speak again. would you regret it, then? if i was dead and the last thing you said to me was, "i'm not gonna be in your life forever." would you regret it?

sorry. that's not fair. i'm trying to unball my fists.

i hope you feel no pain at the thought of me.