You didn't really leave when you died.

There's still that image of you in the back of my mind when I pass your favourite colour on the street.

There's still that uncomfortable silence after I say 'Hey' and I expect you to turn and ask 'what?' but it doesn't happen.

There's still the silence that creeps up against your parent's skin when they have to tell people they had a child and it takes a while for them to notice the past tense.

There's still an echo of your voice in my head where you you used to laugh about our inside jokes...but now they're just statements to me.

There's still that song you love and it still exists in your collection somewhere piled up in your wardrobe that is slowly fading away.

There's still that lingering memory of you when I pass by the place we met. Sometimes it's deliberate - other times, I pass by and break down in the corners of the street because I wasn't meant to see you there.

There's still that uncomfortable ache in my heart that you ripped out when I saw the yellowing of your papery skin in that decaying hospital bed.

There's still that one person who could've met you but instead will go on a lifetime meeting similar people but not quite the same as your wonderful and beautiful and heart wrenchingly perfect self.

There's still the first text you sent saved on my phone, and the fact that it will exist forever even if just in binary code drives me insane!

There's still the unfamiliar chill in your bedroom when I visit because the medication I've started taking since you left gets me a little more sentimental than normal but your parents still let me in to roam around because...they're just as numb as me.

There's still the family wondering forever if they could of done anything and the weight of their thoughts are heavier than the amount of earth we tilled to bury you.

There's still you in everything I do and I'll never get past it.
But, it's okay...
because soon, one friend, like I, will write a similar poem like this about me as I join you up in Heaven.

There's still the option to live, but I guess it left with you.