I had a friend once.

We grew up together. Same neighborhood.

We played sports together, learned to smoke together, walked to school together.

When school ended we shared an apartment. In it we shared women, weed, beer, and our philosophies on each. We shared food, too... when there was any money left over for it.

We sweated side-by-side, shirtless under a Southern sun, earning the cash it took to party at NASCAR races, rock concerts, bars, and beaches.

We spent sleepless weekends playing chess, darts or poker.

We slept in cars, slept in jails, camped in cemeteries, climbed water towers, and went weeks at a time without power, or water while we scrambled for cash.

Sometimes we fought, sometimes we ran, and sometimes we didn’t even give a shit.

We eventually grew up, got married, matured, and grew apart.

When he died it hurt, even though we had not spoken in ages.

That has been ten or twelve years ago, now. Quiet years. Old years, with easy, comfortable days. Years with time to reflect. Years neither of us ever thought we’d reach.

I don’t know how he went. Don’t want to. I hope it happened doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.

But I do know that at the end, when the realization of death came to him, that he could rest easy, remembering those days in the sun, working, playing, dreaming... living life boldly, and with abandon.

Living a life worth remembering.

We met roughly 2 years ago at an after school at a church. I didn´t think much of it at the time. Then we began playing stuff like tic-tac-toe. Soon I began to look forward to seeing him every week and messing around with him. Now we message every day, and I can´t rember one time we fought in the years we have been friends. I struggled alot with depression a while back, and thanks to him I am still here breathing, living. We play saxaphone togther and argue about books, but honestly if he was gone I don´tknow what the world would be without his smile or his laugh or the way he body slams doors instead of opening them like a normal person. The way he puts up with me when I iritate the hell out of him. The way he cares for his siblings even if he denys it. A while back when had our homecoming football game, was the day where I thought I had almost lost him. The game was going great and everyone was having a good time, and then a football layer was on the ground not moving they called some people in. It looked like they were doing CPR on him. All around me I heard people whipering, that it was my best friend. It took all of my will power not to go out there and make sure my best friend was fine. In the end it wasn´t him but I know I will never take my best friend for granted again.