(no subject)
Nick's funeral is today. I'm saying a few words, and as much as I can remember and smile at the good times we had, all I can do when I try to write something down is cry. It didn't even hit me until the viewing. When Allison called me, on that delivery a couple days ago, I was just in total disbelief, but it came down pretty hard when I saw him lying there in that casket; shaven, dressed, and grey. It was like being stabbed in the gut with a rusty shovel, and all I could do was sob. In the photos spread across the table at the funeral home, was a picture of the two of us on stage with Negative Pulse, and another of him sporting the Metallica shirt that now rests on my own shoulders, and it was too damn much for me. I had to leave the room. This is the fifth friend I've lost since freshman year to drug/alcohol abuse, and it gets worse every time. I'm missing one of the small handful of people who I can genuinely say I'll miss, and one of even less that I can say I've never felt judged or belittled by. I only wish I'd stuck with him, rather than abandoning him like I did- he might have still been around today.
All my love, bro. Peace.
All my love, bro. Peace.