"Love is watching someone die. So who's going to watch you die?"

Monday afternoon I lost one of my best friends. I can think back on every significant memory and phase in my life, and he was right there. Times where I didn't think I could go on any longer, times when I felt defeated, he was there. He's saved my life more time than I can count. And I couldn't save his.
As much despair and pain that I've shared with him, there was elation and excitement. We were such a team. I can remember bright summer days where we'd walk through the woods, exploring. Never knowing what we'd find or what nature would flush out. The smell of July was like a drug, and we were hooked, chasing squirrels and chickadees until the sun crested beneath the horizon. What I'd give for another of those days.
But he was old. He'd been around since my memory existed and he aged triple me. He's been the only one I can remember who's always been there for me, no matter what music I listened to, what clothes I wore, or where home was. I could always count on him to listen, to understand, and to make me feel better in his own special way.
Carrying him into that room was the hardest thing I've ever done. We had our talk, our time to set things right, it really couldn't have went any better. Not many of us have the luxury of going out like that, but it didn't make hearing "He's passed on." any easier. Stroking his back until the last breath heaved in his chest was the least I could do. I remember telling him: "You're so much braver than I give you credit for." back when Alanis was in vogue. I had to be brave for him. He deserved it. But boy I'll miss him.