Matthekilla

I have a friend.

No, he is not a killer as the poem title suggests.

Unless you consider Call of Duty killing.

He is currently twelve or thirteen, I think.

He looks up to me. He considers me his brother.

we've been through alot, of course not in real life.

He's saved my a*s a few times in Search N Destroy,

And I've ran across the map and executed a guy that had him held up in a closet.

Of course, I'm relating to a game.

But when you immerse yourself, with people you learn to know,

you feel like they are your brothers.

Like your all soldiers in a war.

Trust develops this way.

I've told him about a love I had in middle school that nearly killed me.

When he reached Middle School, I heard his pain.

He overobsessed about a girl.

He said he had waited his whole life for her.

I thought he had gone mad.

Like I had said, he overobsessed like I had.

I cannot explain the pain this kid went through when she shot him down.

Imagine a Halycon anti-air turret ripping through your rescue helicopter..

obviously the 'rescue' part is a metaphor.

He tried to kill himself, on multiple occasions.

I read something about him having to go to the hospital even.

He talked to me.

I convinced him probably a total of three times that life is worth more..

Worth more than he is making it seem.

He was prepared to shoot himself almost every time we talked.

Slowly, he unwound.

She decided to accept him as a friend.

Just a friend.

That's hard on a man, or even a boy...

to be ONLY a friend.

Reflects my situation then and now too..though im not entirely complaining =)

He has had his times though, and at several times I thought I'd lose a friend.

But now, almost every day, at some point during,

I see his tag come up next to 'online'.

But I don't see his gamertag or 'onlline'.

 I see that my "lil brother" is still alive.