and the friends who are equally as afraid to be around me as they are to leave me alone and everything else that is crappy and isn’t you.

Now that you’re gone, people keep asking me what I’m going to do with your clothes and all your things — if I need help boxing them up. I keep telling them that I was thinking of putting them in display cases and turning the living room into a museum in your honor, but they always look creeped out and I feel sick because that was the kind of thing that would have made you laugh.


Absolutely. “the kind of thing that would have made you laugh.”

I like to think that I understand.

It sucked.

January comes round again.


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