I found him dead, next to me, in my bed. He was 19 and I was 20. I was a H addict for 4 years. He, was just playing around. I should have not let him use it, but I did. I remember tha last time, we were f.cking high and happy, chatting, lying on my bed, making travel plans for next summer. He looked happy. We must have passed out later and i woke up a few hours later because he was snoring. It was actually clear that something was wrong with him. But I thought he was just snoring because of the alcohol--when he was actually in fucking COMA and couldn't breath, next to me, in my single bed. I kept sleeping like an ignorant idiot, snuggling his dying body. He was dead when I woke up, that's all. What a stupid way to die, eh? Just because i AM stupid. It's going to be 3 years at the end of this month. I am not me anymore. And I am not okay. I quit H, have used none after his dead, just because to make it more meaningful, like it can help. It was ridiculous, unfair and .my fault. I can't get over it. Because he will be dead forever, no matter what. How can I?