6 months

Hey best friend,

I'm not even sure what is left to say. I miss you more than I could put into words. I love you more than I could put into words. I simply can't express the immense amount of grief I am in currently. To think that it's been half a year since I have spoken to you seems absolutely insane. I told someone the other day that it feels like I'm confused. You know, that feeling you get when you are legitimately confused about something? It usually only lasts a moment, but it's been 6 months for me. 6 months of wondering what is going on in my life. I'm in a haze. A constant, turbulent haze. I read the articles still. I look at your obituary. I go back to when I was standing in front of your casket just staring at you. I have to make it seem real. Because the other morning I woke up in the dead of night and grabbed my phone to call you. I needed to talk to you. I needed to make sure you were okay because I knew I hadn't talked to you in a while, but in that moment, I didn't know why.

I still look at my phone when it goes off and expect to see your name. I still expect to see you here on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I still expect to be able to call you when I'm so upset I can't even breathe. I have to repeat it when I say, "When Kobi died." or "Kobi's grave." Because it still seems like some awful nightmare I'm surviving. I don't want time to move forward. It can either move backwards, or it can just stop right here. Where it's been 6 months since I've talked to you and no longer.

I feel empty. Completely vacant. I want my life back. I want you to have your life back. I want you to not have been killed by one of the main things you feared. I want you to not have suffered. I want you to not have had those awful thoughts and images in your head before you died. I want things to be different. But they aren't. And I can't ever make them better. I can't make things better for you this time. I have to figure out how I'm suppose to live with that.

I love you,

Your best friend