Coming to terms with the unexpected death of a friend is something I unfortunately have a lot of experience with. But maybe i wasnt supposed to get so used to it, because now fate is showing me what it feels like to mourn the living. Ive been blessed with the best of friends with the worst of troubles. Its like watching a faulty light bulb flicker in and out of my life, never staying off. Is this my punishment for becoming numb to the feeling of loss? Or is it the indomitable human spirit gasping for air and refusing to go quietly? These are my trials, lest I allow apathy to consume me. I am a man of persistent love fueled by my own precious fear of death. As long as there is a pulse, I wont stop fighting. I love you and im not leaving.