I fear that if I do not write this down that I will, in fact, go crazy. Why is it the phone call that I must not make is the one phone call that I feel so desperate to make. I want to pick up the phone and hear your voice. I want to pick up the phone and tell you how so utterly I still love you, how maddeningly sad I am that I cannot talk to you. I'm sitting here, at my desk, unable to hold back the tears of the years of living without you. years of my life struggling to move on, struggling to find my way without your presence to guide me, to follow my, to accompany me through them. years of feeling I have betrayed the best friend I've ever had in my life, the person with which I had shared my highest hopes and my darkest secrets, the person whom I had but to see smile and feel as if the world were a place I could live in, that person is gone. And indeed you are gone; protected from the rollercoaster of my emotions, protected from the backwash of my insecurities, protected from the pain of my lies. I envy you, for also being the strongest person I've ever known; taking the bumps life had given you (including myself as one) and turning them into the motivation for everything you do.