Death's bed...
I heard about James at 5:24pm on Valentines day. I had just got off of work. The text message that I recieve was from Doug. That night I came home and me, Doug, Jeremy, Michael, Christina, Angela, and Will all sat around talking about good times. We took a shot of Wild Turkey, and even left a shot for James. I'm not going write this as if James could actually hear me, thats foolish. I'm writing this to whoever feels that they need to read this. I haven't lived a perfect life. None of us have. The only difference is that James wasnt bitter about it. Of us all he was the best man. He held the best outlook on life, even when all his chips were down he would carry the best outlook. He didnt care about money, or alcohol. He didn't care if he had seen your ugly face for days on end or if it was the first time in years. He was glad you were there. He was always about his friends. Everything he did revolved around that one truth. I wish I could show how I feel. I wish I could feel something instead of just being numb. I miss James, and I regret not visiting more. I will miss him. I am still trying to take leave, but so far I've been talking to brick walls. I hate this, I hate it here, and every hour that drags on and I'm still here just makes things worse.