he asked me to hold his hand hard, and he also told me that our friendship ave me a letter and said,“, and a dark cold ran inside of my hands. he just left everything. his blue eyes else to make them look back at me.
at that second i couldn’t control myself anymore. the salty tears glidede do, but i didn’t say a , he me alive, he one. it’s just the letter and me.
try, sick, and almost lifeless. i couldn’t understand oing on around me. everything , drinking, nor doing anything. for t on my bed, thinking about oing to do. i couldn’t talk to anyone, because l didn’t ood times ave me. in the letter he said,“don’t be silly and don’t cry. i knoh, and you just have to get used to it, fight it, and get ot to get yourself ready to continue your life, because only than i can look doet me... i guess this is goodbye, but i don’t the letter, my heart filled htness. the idea of continuing my life, as he had said, gave me the po from the beginning. i learned many lessons from this event. for instance, that true friends can never be replaced by anyone else, and they’re never forgotten. i understood that the friendship is a gift, and nothing in the happens for a reason. i have accepted the fact that my friend is not as he’s in my memories, he’s part of me, and i take his presence as a source of pride.
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