My best friend passed away last week. We buried her Monday. It's horrific. The first stroke she had made it difficult for her to walk. The second...well...I saw it start. I saw the confusion in her eyes, her inability to speak coherently. She left this life that evening and I can't get it out of my head that I watched the beginning of her death.

We knew each other for 20 years. We loved each other. I worshipped...idolized her. She helped me start my career, gave me direction and took care of me so, so much. Now, she's gone. I couldn't take care of her when she needed me.

I think about the past 20 years and what we did and where we went...all of it...I'm overwhelmed with grief. Never will I find someone anywhere close to the beauty she was. Fierce, loyal and lovely...why...why was it her?

I'm now alone without her. Nobody to go to for advice, direction, friendship, love, adoration. I am singular with no hope. Why? Why wasn't it me that died? It should have been me that died. I'm not necessary without her.

There is nothing left here for me. I want to go, to lie next to her for eternity and hope I see her in the afterlife so I can feel her love again. I'm just done.

What keeps me here? The fact I'm a coward and am scared to do it. That's it. Nothing else.