I was shocked to hear that he had died. There wasn’t any solemn silence, but inside, it was strange to think that he was gone. I was in America during easter, I remember that wonderful easter breakfast. Yet, it was then that he died, unknown to me, the earth continuing on its way, seemingly uncaring, trivializing death. Its strange, sobering to think of it that way. We played soccer together before, and we actually won something in year 1. I remember he drove me back. Now he only exists in past tense. He was the same age as I was. When I came back from America, I remember lounging over coffee, talking about everything and nothing, and we talked about him, and now this. He’s still in that yearbook, but it’ll be different now to look at him. Inevitably, my shock turned into many questions — why had this happened? I wanted to understand this. I don’t quite know. I guess its natural to ask why. I’m shocked, I’m sad, and I wish it could have turned out differently.

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