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You (were) are the first person I grieved in this life.
He was the epitome of what you call a success story.
I guess you could say I’ve been lucky. Or maybe blessed, or fortunate, or whatever adjective you want to use in this dire state of emotion I’m in.
Living in this lifetime for three decades, I am aware how immeasurably blissful it has been to never have grieved a person’s death — or is it life, or the end of a life? There was grief in friendships lost, opportunities closed, regrets in decisions I couldn’t undo. There was sadness in a distant grandparent’s passing, and sympathy for a schoolmate’s early demure. But how do you grieve the life of someone you have loved?
They say he passed away two weeks ago, or was it a week? Time counting down blurred to minutes passed hauntingly, unknowingly. Valentine’s Day, to be exact, and the news came about a week or two later.
The words of his best friend, as seen on the screen,
“He fell from the 41st floor of his apartment. We don’t have any details as we were not with him during that time, only his girlfriend can give the details.”
My mind scatters with information, and the lack of it, was given.
How did he fall?
