My Best Friend Died.

It has been 103 days since you took your last breath.

When they called me to the hospital, I thought you would be alive. I thought you would be bitching and moaning and in pain, but I thought you would be there, ALL OF YOU. Instead, I saw your motionless body. I stood next to you while you were lying on that table. It is an image that I will never forget and one that I feel oddly lucky to have had. I was able to feel you in that room. I know with my soul that you were there. I knew that you could feel what I was feeling; I could also feel your relief that it was over. Your tired body, that had fought so long and hard had crossed the finish line. Unlike so many people who die from illness, you had it good until the end. Your decision to resist treatment was not understood by most people — But I understood. You went to New York. You took a train. You went on a cruise. You lived for the first time in those last few months. You lived like a man who knew he was dying. I promised you that I would take care of your cat. I promised that you would be remembered. I cried with you when we heard the news. I knew that I would help you to die, but I had not yet realized that you would teach me how to live.

It has been 105 days since I heard your laugh.

The last time we talked, you were in pain. You canceled our dinner plans, but we talked on the phone for an hour. We talked about politics, we laughed about Trevor Noah, you sent me some ridiculous meme with raccoons. We laughed. I love your laugh. I have a video of you laughing at the taco place we used to go to. When I miss you, I listen to it over and over again. Spending time with you always meant a little therapeutic bitching and a whole lot of laughter.

It has been 110 days since I saw your smile.

I have pictures of you smiling: a couple of them cut deep. Especially toward the end. When I look at the pictures of you holding your first grandbaby, I can see the smile in your eyes. I think sometimes that is my favorite. But it rivals the time we got drunk and took a selfie in your apartment. As soon as you got the news that your time would be up, you ordered me a copy of that picture. Now my copy sits next to yours. It may look redundant on my shelf, but it is a reminder that we loved each other, and what else is there really?

I have a lifetime left to go, and you are forever frozen in time.

I will carry you with me. Your breath is my breath. Your laugh is my laugh. Your smile lives in me. I am not the same, because I knew you. I am forever changed. You saw in me what I did not see in myself. Sometimes, when I get down and feel unlovable and pissed off, I am reminded that you loved me, that I am loveable, and that there is not much worth getting pissed off about since our time is short. Every time I take a chance, I feel you encouraging me. Every time I dare to trust myself, I am reminded that you trusted me. Every time, I laugh at a political joke, you are there with me. I miss you. I will miss you my whole life, but you are also with me, every day, all the time, in my heart. Sometimes, I can even hear you sing, “Ob la di, Ob la da, Life Goes on…”