My dear friend, I am worried for you.
You told me you were not long for this world.
This scares me.  
The words replay over and over in my mind.
"I'm not long for this world.  I'm not long for this world."
What does that mean?
Are you sick?
Are you planning something?
I pray that God gives me the strength and the words to help you to see
that you are so needed, so loved, so wanted.
As you spiral downward, so does my heart.
And if you should crash and burn, many will go with you.
People will never be the same.
I will never be the same.
I've buried a friend before.
She was someone I loved like a sister.
And another friend whom I loved like a brother.
I don't want to do it again.
To bury a friend is to bury part of yourself.
I can't stand the thought of burying the part of me that is you.
To see the pain in the eyes of others as they struggle to understand "How?" and Why?" is torture.
The pain of others is palpable to me.
It weighs heavily upon me.
And though you try to mask it, with jokes, and drinking and with other lovely distractions, I can feel your pain, my brother...and it's killing me.
So please, whatever help you need, get it.
Because you are so needed, so loved and so wanted by so many.
Not least of all, by me.