It's been difficult to pen my thoughts on this particular subject. Perhaps it's because if I think about it for too long, the pain resurfaces. When you lose someone close to you, the pain doesn't go. You just learn to handle it, control it, hide it better. You would think after four years it would be easier.
I found out about my friends passing amongst the serene Whistler landscape. You can say this post is a long time coming.
In the lonely cold air, I walked aimlessly along the trail trying to grasp the concept of him not being around anymore. I inhaled the overpriced strawberry flavoured cigarettes. The smoke mingled with the airy fog. The beat of my pulse rages through my body and is a constant reminder of this ever present life.
In a way, even until his last days, it was as if he was still looking after me. Making sure I was amongst placid lakes and breathtaking mountains to soothe the fall, to feel that I was a little closer to heaven, a little closer to him. Without knowing his fate, his last words to me was goodbye and that he will miss me. He had given me closure without having to ask for it and for that I thank him.
