Exactly three months passed, and I had to leave as your parents forced me to move on, as well as your other friends. They were all so utterly broken, I wished to help them in any possibile way. But I wasn't capable of helping myself at that point, which felt so very pathetic. I lived my every day routine, dragging myself through life, calling your parents daily. It was all a burden. Endless. And I couldn't get used to it. Even though we didn't used to see each other on daily basis, knowing you were safe , somewhere, making people happy by your existence, was enough for me.

However,

it gives me nightmares

thinking of how you're laying there

motionless

in that long

long

sleep.