I remember how I felt when I first heard you had died. Not a single part of me felt sad. In fact I was the very opposite. I thought this meant someone had started a rumor about you and we would have something to discuss when you returned from the lake. I thought it would be our new inside joke.
I thought you not replying for a few hours, a few days, meant you were having the time of your life with your friends. I thought you were maybe ignoring me, mad at the fact that I had been depressed that day and I had barely texted you. I thought you were too high to message me and maybe you were laying by the water lazily staring at clouds, laughing when they had grotesque shapes.
I thought you would message me. Dispelling the rumors of your death. I thought you would still be here to help me heal. To always help me get through my latest heartbreak and move on to my next.
I thought you would live alongside me, as children, forever.
