I was looking through your profile today for reasons that escape me, and it struck me that you were cycling through all your games the day before. I've been there. I've handled the objects and hobbies and people that I love and let them all slip through my fingers like grains of sand, one after another, because none of it helps. None of it feels real or meaningful or good. I'm sorry you were in that place. I'm sorry you couldn't call me. I'm sorry I left, even though I feel like I had to. I'm sorry for not coming back, or at least properly keeping in touch. I'm sorry for a year of distance over something so stupid in the grand scheme of things. I'm just ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ sorry.

I love you, and I miss you.

Most days are normal at this point. I wake up, make food, go to work, play with your nephews when I have them. The things I would expect to remind me of you don't. The most random ♥♥♥♥, somehow, does, and for a split second I'm back to that morning and that phone call. Then it passes. For a few hours I'm reminded of this hard little knot in my soul that I carry around, something I'm usually unaware of, and it hurts a little, and then that passes too. It's still there, I'm just not consciously aware of it.

Rest in Peace Drake, I love you my brother.