I found out tonight that a childhood friend of mine had died. He had passed away.
Peacefully apparently but he had been ill for a while.
I feel terribly sad. He wasn't old. I liked him a lot. He was a mate. I remember him fondly. I feel guilty too.
I hadn't spoken to him in a long time. A really long time. I didn't know that he was sick. I hadn't even thought of him. For ages. It makes me feel Selfish.
I am angry at myself. I want to lash out. I am caught up in my own little world. Busy with petty things. Stuff that doesn't matter. I feel fallible now too. Fragile. Alone. I want to cry but there are no tears. This makes me feel bitter. I don't know why. Comprehension of my inability to shed a single tear for the loss of my friend eludes me.
I rummaged through my old possessions trying to find photos of my friend. I eventually found one of me and him as youths. Just one. The photo is Tattered. Battered. Creased. It is worn. It is symbiotic of how I feel at this very moment. We were aptly on a beach in this photo. He loved the beach. We are both laughing in this image. I remember the moment it was taken. It was a snapshot of a happy time. I have tried to smooth the picture out. Tomorrow I am going to get it framed. To preserve it. I am going to conserve the memory of my friend.
Non Omnis Moriar.
Not all of me shall die.