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.