You are the most loyal person I have ever met, she said. Anyone would have just left me by now, with my illness and all. You are my best friend, I said. I care about you so much and I won’t leave you alone, I said. We shared many things in common, our pasts, the ways people treated us, our personality types. You are the only friend that I have, and if it weren’t for you I would have killed myself already, she said. Many times we spoke about committing suicide together, but it was just a thing we imaged, we knew we couldn’t go through with it. I was always a loner, loser type person, I told her. I never had any friends or social life, women were never interested in me. I spent all of my teenage years in isolation and even all of my 20’s up until now, but at least now I have you, I told her. I was a loser type person as well, she told me. I didn’t have many friends either, she said. I was really overweight and always wore ugly clothes, she said. I wore ugly clothes too, I told her, I used to shop in the men’s section of Sears and wore clothes that made me look like a 60 year old man and wore these ugly blue Lee workman jeans. I never fit in with any group, I was always an outcast; severely quite, awkward and funny looking, I told her. But it was all ok, because we have each other, we were right for each other. It is getting to be too much, she told me, I have to wear these tube in my nose 24/7 and I find it hard to breathe without the mask on, she told me. She had to carry her tank around everywhere she went, she was only 27, so young, yet dying. If it weren’t for my illness, I wish we could be together, she said, we would ride our bikes together, go to the theater, go out dancing. If we did all that now, I’d have to carry the tank around with me, if we went out for a night of dancing, I’d be on the dance floor with tubes going up my nose, it wouldn’t look right, she said jokingly with her sweet laugh. I’m sorry, she told me. Its ok I told her. I like you just the way you are, I said. I wouldn’t want you any other way, you are perfect to me just the way you are. The disease was catching up to you quickly. I was getting ready for your departure. You were constantly coughing, you had a hard time breathing even with the mask on. I will always be there with you in mind and spirit, she said. Picture me always there with you, she said. We listened to the song “Home” by Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros, it was one of our favorite songs. They already cleaned out my apartment, she told me. Since I have been here at the hospital for so long, I didn’t pay the rent so now they evicted me, she told me. Don’t worry about it, you need to be in the hospital right now because you are very sick, I told her. Though I thought it was so sad that they cleaned out her apartment. How are you doing this morning, I asked her. Alright, how are you doing? I am ok, I told her, I am just on the bus right now heading to school. I am tired, she said. Rest, my love, I told her. She died later on that morning, it was the last time I ever spoke to her. You wrote me a letter before you died, telling me that I will always be in your heart and thoughts, that you will carry me to the other side where you will be waiting for me, telling me that you hope I don’t hurt myself or take my own life, telling me to be strong and to live for you, to love those who are still here, my mother, my sister, Marley. You then wrote how you wish that we had met earlier, that I was a wonderful man and that you would have been so proud to be my girlfriend. Then you said your final farewell. Right before you died, I carved your initials onto my right arm and I showed you, you told me you wish you could do the same if you were able to, instead of being on your death bed. I told her that she has done enough for me, and I just wanted to show her how much she meant to me. Now I call your phone number and it is disconnected. I see your email and name and know I am never going to get a text or email from you again. No one to tell me they love me anymore, no one to make my day better. I go home and there is nothing there. My bad days stay bad, they never change. I am back to where I started. This was my greatest fear, being alone again, being a loner loser again with no one to talk to anymore. It is hard to move, it is hard to speak, it is hard to let you go. You left, gone away, and I am not sure where you went. I don’t feel you near, I can’t hear you, you are lost, I am lost, and I feel that we will always be lost, never to see you or hear from you again. I’m low and numb, then when I’m high and open, I cry and cry and cry, the snot makes it hard for me to breathe, I blow my nose over and over again to no avail, I can’t breathe. Sometimes I begin to shake, shake out of sadness, you were my friend, my precious friend, my only friend. Where did you go, sweety. I miss you so much it is unbearable.