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.