I played until my fingers bled so I could avoid the truth today

As I've mentioned in previous journals, my best friend's mom has been fighting brain cancer for about six years now. I woke up to a phone call this morning from the aforementioned best friend. He started off so casual, asking how I was and exchanging pleasantries. And then he started to cry. He doesn't ever cry, you guys. He bottles things up even worse than I do. I have spoken to him every single day for over seven years, and this is the third time that he has cried to me. So, of course, I knew what had happened. So then I cried. And we just tried to speak through the tears until we couldn't do it anymore. I passed the dreadful news around to the people that needed to know, and then I sat down and cried for over an hour. I had plans to go shopping and see a movie today, but everyone just let me skip out and they gave me my space. And then I picked up my guitar, which I regret to say I haven't done in far too long. I practiced some chord transitions, and then I watched some tutorials online. I spent the whole day learning new songs just so that my mind was busy. My fingertips are broken and raw, and I feel all empty inside, but at the same time I feel weirdly accomplished. I know that the rest of the world is treating him like a time bomb, so I've been trying to treat him the same way that I always have. I don't know what else I can do right now. Thank God for my guitar and music therapy. If only I could take it with me everywhere so that I could use it to hold myself together when I can't afford to fall apart. Rest in peace, Kim. You were amazing, you were loved, you were beautiful and strong, and you deserve to be without pain. I'll try my best to take care of your son for you.