(...)

Prologue

He was my best friend. A part of me that could never break, because even if I knew I could get heartbroken by any man, he would be there for me at any time. I would have done anything for him, and I am sure he would have too.

But life doesn't work like that. It isn't as simple as true love, or friendship, or whatever was up with both of us.

We never did actually talk about what our relationship was, but it didn't matter to us. Together, we formed something much bigger than what words could explain. It was something that I could and will never forget.

He was my favorite person, someone with whom it never gets boring, because whenever a conversation was about to end, he'd start rambling on about how life was unfair to the poor people, or how our political leader of the moment was just this unscrupulous old man who craves the power that outcomes of being famous and influent.

He was brilliant. Very. And it didn't seem to disturb him if people would abuse from his generosity, because all he wanted was to make the world better. He taught me so much, and as I listened his endless speeches, he would listen to my stories about life. He was so special, I felt like an idiot standing beside him.

And then, something bad happens, and you realize that even the best people that could live in this world can't run away from the struggle. He left me high and dry. But it was not his fault, it was never.

He was my only friend, and his name was Chris, Christopher Paul Highland.
And here's our story.