A little over a week ago, my best friend passed away.
For a little more than a week, I’ve been drifting like a boat cut loose from its anchor.
I’m a gloomy bugger at the best of times.
If dark moods were an Olympic sport, I’d be a gold medal winner.
It’s easy to get lost in the dark, and I would have if not for her.
She was a wonderful person.
A genuine person.
You don’t meet many of them anymore.
She was relentlessly positive, compassionate to a fault, unafraid, fierce.
She was capable of so much more than the world allowed her.
Because of her, I am a better person.
And I refuse to say goodbye.
