(no subject)
I've walked through his galleries, once teeming with life. Now deserted. Why did I come here? I find myself counting and re-counting our conversations like so much dragon's loot. I read his last note 100 times, but I still cry. I feel somehow like it's my fault. The guilt won't go away, or the pain of his loss... even as I type this I pause... for there are real tears in my eyes right now. Will you ever come back to me my friend? Nate, I miss you. I pray for you constantly. I will rejoice before my father on the day that you return. If there was anything in the world and I mean that with only one exception and that is to deny Christ myself, but that being the only exception. If there were anything I could do to bring you back, believe you me I would put all of my energy into it... God, this is a promise, even though I have nothing to offer.