Four years ago, my friend took his life. I know he had to get away from the pain. I don't know if he thought we wouldn't think about him all the time still. I don't know if he thought we wouldn't forgive him. I was never allowed to read his final letter, even though part of it was to me. We never found the sword he left in the field for us. The police destroyed his computer while searching it for possible murder motives, so the password he left us was for nothing. I think things after he died did not go as he planned... so many loose ends. I still love him and miss him. There's still always a place for him whenever we all hang out. There's so much I'd want to tell him. There's so much we'd do if he were around. There will always be that dark cloud over our friends. Someone is missing. But still, he did what he had to do, so I'll try to forgive him. Thinking of you, bro. Rest in peace.