Kleenex observations

Dear you,

It's been a month and a half since it a) happened, or it b) stopped happening, or it c) began to happen, depending on how you look at it

I still don't know how to process it or if I even need to, all I know is that a) he tried to kill himself, b) he succeeded, and c) I'm here to think about it.

This isn't metaphorical but it's sure as hell metaphysical, I'm telling you the truth

I'd never had to inform someone that a mutual friend of ours killed himself, I've done it three times now, twice over the phone, I think those ones are easier

I've never seen so many Kleenex boxes in one room and they still weren't enough

And look, I wasn't even his best friend. But comprehending death is nothing like I thought it would be. I mean, sure, it's depressing as hell. But what surprised me is:

Life goes on. One moment you'll be talking to your girlfriend about your stuffed animals' arrangement on your bed and the next it hits you: Kody is dead. Right, right. Shit.

And then? You think about something else for a while.
  
(Love you Kody)