Eliot

I recently lost one of my best friends, and I can't stop writing about him.

Maybe the worst part of losing him is that I no longer have someone to distract me from the truth that I don't like myself very much. People say that life will go on without him, but picturing that is what hurts me the most. I'm wrapped up in self-obsession. I'm scared that I will forget his voice some day. And I'm scared to love someone like him again-- broken, flawed, and absolutely perfect. He used to disregard the appreciation I had for all of the simple things he did for me. He would call them "little things", as if that implied a lack of value, and I would remind him that a match can start a wildfire.

I am afraid to stop missing him.