Status: this is just a one shot thing.
I'm Sorry You Died.
I'm just sorry.
I guess I’m just sorry. I'm sorry I didn’t take you seriously, I'm sorry we never spoke a lot, I'm sorry I went out with your best friend so you guys didn’t spend as much time together. I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear.
I'm sorry you died.
You're the first friend I’ve ever had to die, and I don’t know how to take it. I'm not sure what I’m supposed to do. I saw Carl’s message to you online, and then I read the others, and that news article, and then I just sat in shock for a few minutes. My entire train of thought just vanished. I wasn't thinking about being excited to do my A-levels, I wasn't worrying about raising enough money to buy a car and lessons, and I wasn't worrying about falling in love at school. I was just...lost. Totally and completely lost for a moment.
Then I cried. Oh my God, you’re dead. Actually no longer living. Your heart doesn’t beat anymore. You won’t laugh at me when I fall over again. You won’t ever tease me again. You won’t ever get to do your A-levels, and you were so much smarter than me. You won’t ever get to drive, or fall in love again.
I’m thinking about our time in Belgium now. When I met you. You were a corporal and so was I. I did my sergeant interview recently-you should have done so, too. I’m thinking about borrowing your camera and taking ridiculous pictures together. I'm thinking about you teaching me to play pool, about you buying us all pizza and sharing it with us at the hotel.
I'm laughing right now. Remember when we walked back to the hotel, and Tom was drunk, and we sat next to the Commandant and he asked me to pass his beer, and he was totally pissed? We had a good laugh at him then. And the day at the beach, and hanging out of the hotel window to talk to you, passing around drinks and laughing, trying to avoid the people directly under us spotting us.
I'm sorry I didn’t speak to you more often. I still have your number in my phone, maybe I could have called you more. Maybe.
It doesn’t feel real. I keep expecting someone to turn around and yell, ‘just kidding!’ I guess they won’t.
There’s going to be a funeral. An actual funeral where you’re going to be buried and we’ll have to say goodbye, and what about your stuff? And your clothes? And the people who love you? What happens?
It was a violent death but I’m thankful it was instant.
Your life, your sixteen years, gone in an instant, all because he wasn't looking where he was driving. Seems impossible.
I’m sorry you died, Tyron.
I'm sorry you died.
You're the first friend I’ve ever had to die, and I don’t know how to take it. I'm not sure what I’m supposed to do. I saw Carl’s message to you online, and then I read the others, and that news article, and then I just sat in shock for a few minutes. My entire train of thought just vanished. I wasn't thinking about being excited to do my A-levels, I wasn't worrying about raising enough money to buy a car and lessons, and I wasn't worrying about falling in love at school. I was just...lost. Totally and completely lost for a moment.
Then I cried. Oh my God, you’re dead. Actually no longer living. Your heart doesn’t beat anymore. You won’t laugh at me when I fall over again. You won’t ever tease me again. You won’t ever get to do your A-levels, and you were so much smarter than me. You won’t ever get to drive, or fall in love again.
I’m thinking about our time in Belgium now. When I met you. You were a corporal and so was I. I did my sergeant interview recently-you should have done so, too. I’m thinking about borrowing your camera and taking ridiculous pictures together. I'm thinking about you teaching me to play pool, about you buying us all pizza and sharing it with us at the hotel.
I'm laughing right now. Remember when we walked back to the hotel, and Tom was drunk, and we sat next to the Commandant and he asked me to pass his beer, and he was totally pissed? We had a good laugh at him then. And the day at the beach, and hanging out of the hotel window to talk to you, passing around drinks and laughing, trying to avoid the people directly under us spotting us.
I'm sorry I didn’t speak to you more often. I still have your number in my phone, maybe I could have called you more. Maybe.
It doesn’t feel real. I keep expecting someone to turn around and yell, ‘just kidding!’ I guess they won’t.
There’s going to be a funeral. An actual funeral where you’re going to be buried and we’ll have to say goodbye, and what about your stuff? And your clothes? And the people who love you? What happens?
It was a violent death but I’m thankful it was instant.
Your life, your sixteen years, gone in an instant, all because he wasn't looking where he was driving. Seems impossible.
I’m sorry you died, Tyron.
♠ ♠ ♠
for a good friend and a good man who died.he was going to meet his friend at the gym and he was knocked from his bike by a lorry-death was instant.
rip.