One of my friends is dead. 22 years old.
He was handsome. He had a good job. He drove a cool truck. He had a lot of friends. He was funny.
Yes, he had his problems... He was a recovering addict. He made decisions to turn his life around. He put himself into a recovery program. He just got out.
He was handsome. He had a good job. He drove a cool truck. He had a lot of friends. He was funny.
Yes, he had his problems... He was a recovering addict. He made decisions to turn his life around. He put himself into a recovery program. He just got out.
He had a bad day, decided to use one more time so it would all go away, and then went to bed and didn't wake up.
Such a waste of an incredible person, who could have had an incredible life!
I am angry.
I am confused.
I am sad.
I wish he had been strong enough to fight it.
On one of the windows in my house, there is a little drawing that he did, just a few days ago... It feels so strange to look at it... To know he had been there just a few days before. I don't have the heart to wipe it away... That is all we have left of him. A little drawing on the window.
He seemed happy when he was around... I guess he hid a lot more than anyone could know.
I wonder how long I will be angry, confused, and sad.
Why, Scott?? Why did you do that??
.... I wish I knew why...
We love you!
We miss you!
And we wish this was all a bad dream.
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