We were the best of friends.
We didn't need to be anything more because what we had was well enough for the both of us.
Polar opposites. Him: tall, active. Myself: short, lazy. I have no idea how we managed to get along, and I have no interest in pondering over it.
The only thing I tend to wonder about is the exact moment that he began to get so distant.
Kids got mean. He got quiet.
Then they got vicious. And he became vacant.
How on earth could adults witness such cruelty and pass it off as "kids being kids"?
They stopped caring about his well being.
And pretty soon after that he did, too.
I was angry.
Angry that children could be so mean, and that adults could overlook these things. Angry that he never came to me. Angry that I never asked.
He might have thought that I would be okay without him. But he didn't know that even dead, he could still break my heart.