You were 14. You rode the bus home with us every day. We'd get to your house and run upstairs...

You were 14. You rode the bus home with us every day. We'd get to your house and run upstairs, only 15 or so minutes until your mom got home. We'd pack the bong, hit the patio, blast The Beatles and smoke until we were on the floor coughing. That 70's Show was always on at this time, right after Scrubs finished. We always talked about how similar your dad was to Red Foreman. We were young, high, and had no idea what the world had in store for us, but we were happy. Your house always had the best snacks.

You were 16. I drove us all home after school, and as always, we'd unload at your place. You and Marcus would argue over who'd roll today's blunt, and I'd sit back and laugh at how dumb the two of you were. Your mom stopped caring about us smoking pot, cause we were on the verge of young adulthood and both got accepted into the college of our dreams. Getting stoned wasn't quite what it used to be, as with all the pressures of becoming an adult, came unwarranted amounts of anxiety. We were also too old to act the way we used to when we got high, something that really only seemed to affect me because you were always so damn mature. I hated that. Your cousin sold us some xanax, and we'd split one into three and drift away. For those couple of hours we were untouchable. Nothing mattered, we were the only ones who existed. We couldn't imagine life any other way, why bother? Nobody could tell us we weren't living life exactly how we were supposed to.

You were 18. You finally had set up our dorm exactly how we envisioned; TV's facing opposite direction so screen-looking was a thing of the past, microwave on top of the toaster oven on top of the mini fridge, a drawer full of weed paraphernalia and 7 posters of our favor artists, movie scenes and cliche college quirks. You passed me the straw as I broke my roxy in half, pieces flying everywhere that I would eventually try and find later.. You were more accurate then you thought your were when you would joke about me doing that. I'd separate the big, fluffy line into three smaller ones, and you'd suck yours down all at once. My tolerance was the same as yours was, but I lacked the $200 check you'd get from your parents every Monday. I was always kind of annoyed by that, but you'd occasionally show my broke-ass some love. Me and my girlfriend were fighting, and it got so bad that you drove me 400 miles to see her while your car was literally falling apart every step of the way. Your parents were so pissed that you drove while your car was in that kinda condition, but you told them it was something you had to do. It actually hurt you to see me cry, cause it was something you had never seen me do in the 14 years we were friends. Your transmission was replaced and your parents were $2400 poorer, but we were on our way back to school. You had just affirmed yourself as the most caring person in my life. My dad had passed and my mom was back in France, but I had you.. and for that I was pretty damn lucky.

It was your 19th birthday. It was my birthday literally just the day before, and we would always celebrate them together. You walked into the dorm and I pretended not to notice you, which had recently become the norm. I had the funniest story of this failed attempt to spit game at some girls after psych class, but I knew I'd be saying that for someone else. We had stopped talking for about a month now, due to your stubbornness and my inability to break a grudge, regardless of how petty it may have been. You were wearing long sleeves in July, but I didn't notice. You'd sit on your bed and watch ancient aliens, and I'd find some excuse to leave the dorm. Your presence drove me mad, as I'm sure mind did yours. Truthfully, I don't think either of us knew why we were fighting, only that we were and that any attempt to act otherwise would make us look weak. My connection to all things opiate were officially cut off, but yours only grew stronger. After a fun week of dope-sickness, I finally started feeling like myself again. The benzos would kick in, and I'd head out to my new friends house. We'd hit every club, every big sporting event or social gathering we caught wind of, so we could take dope photos for people to admire on Facebook. You'd sit at the dorm, and watch ancient aliens with the lights always off.. No matter what time I'd come home, you were at the dorm watching that damn show. I brought some girl home one night, praying that you had found something else to do. You hadn't, and I officially had to take her somewhere else. I made sure to be as loud and obnoxious as I could while grabbing my shit, ensuring that you acknowledged my presence and current lifestyle as better than yours before walking out. It still hurt to see you like that... You said nothing. You were still wearing a long sleeve shirt, and I still hadn't noticed.

You were 22. You were outside of the gas station when I drove up, smoking a cigarette. You were bench pressing 185lbs at 14 years old our freshmen year of highschool, and here you were a senior in college looking like you weighed maybe a buck twenty. Your skin was pale, and the bags under your eyes hung about as low as my thoughts of you at that time. I smiled and you smiled, but we had nothing to say to one another. We were strangers, and we both had very different things to do. I saw you a couple weeks later, and I was pretty drunk. You looked even worse than you did the last time I saw you, which had to have been a hard task to accomplish. I was worried. I spent twenty minutes lecturing you and trying to mirror your image onto yourself so that you could see what I saw, but it was hopeless. You didn't see the issue, either that or you were too far gone and refused to acknowledge it. The kid behind you was sketchy and hung around you like a shadow, stepping in when I started to get emotional. He told me to fuck off, and I blamed him for destroying my best friend. The drunken tears started to fall, but my friends in the car were yelling my name. The tears were wiped away quicker then they fell, but I know you noticed them. Your friend laughed, but you didn't. I still cared, and you did too.

You were 23. Your oldest brother had received his sentence, and would be doing 17 years for trafficking, possession and selling to an undercover. Your younger brother still wouldn't talk to you. You had just gotten out of jail for violating probation, after getting caught stealing a drug test at Walmart. I heard the news and almost laughed, I couldn't understand how far you had fallen. You were always so much better than me in life, it was unreal to see how things had changed. I had my degree, a good job and a support system of friends that held through everything. You had a criminal record, a pocket full of pills and contact list full of people you either bought drugs from or sold to. I'd see you occasionally as I drove to work, and every time it was like seeing a ghost. I had no feelings for you anymore, no judgement. My painkiller habit had picked back up, but for some reason I still felt above you. I ended up running into you a few weeks ago, while I was picking up a few oxy 30's from my dude. You seemed almost excited that we were back on the same plane of existence, but I was disgusted. You tried conversing, generally interested in how I was, what I was doing these days and how my mom was. My answers were short, and I couldn't get away from you fast enough. It was obvious, and it didn't take you long to notice. You had fallen pretty low, but you were still as conscious as ever. I watched you take a long drag of your cigarette as I pulled away, staring directly into eachothers eyes. We were officially on two different planes of existence. I had no business on yours, and vise versa. This was the last time I ever saw you.

I got the news today. Your name and face was plastered across my Facebook wall, where every memory and funny instance with you was on full display. I considered writing my own status in your memory, but I couldn't. It just didn't feel right after all we had been through, and how I had treated you over the years. The cause of death wasn't broadcasted, but it didn't need to be, I already knew. Though it feels like 10 years since I've spoken to you, I can't help but think about all the time we spent together. Every minute of my life from 7 years old until 19, involved you in some way. You were the kid who I experienced life with, who I made mistakes with, who I got my first kiss next to.. You always gave me shit for having my eyes wide open. You brought me to parties, you fought alongside me, you accepted me as a brother and let me into your family when I felt like I didn't have my own. You cheered for me when I won, cried with me when I lost, and threw up with me when I was drunk or dope sick. You cared about me, through everything, and I threw you out of my life when you needed me the most. You never needed me, you were always the one I relied on for anything I went through, but you were always okay. When the time came that you weren't, I no longer had a need for you. I abandoned you, and you still forgave me. You still sent me invites on Xbox live, you still told funny stories about me with mutual friends and you still told your parents about all I had accomplished. You still gave a shit, you still cared. You were no longer a part of my life, but I was always a piece of yours, just a little lost along the way. You were the greatest thing I ever gave up in this lifetime, I'm sure of that.

You were my best friend.

You just broke my heart.

...

pls stop

shit nigga i cant read

Good riddance, junky scum

Not OP, but fuck you

Checked

much love my guy this is a rough time.
i came here to fap but now im soft and
hey im wishing you the best.
hang in there man.

Sounds like it was all your fault and you were a shitty friend

Tldr
Try not to be such a windbag

Actual tldr
>OP had a best friend who he'd do drugs with and did everything for him, >they made the dumb decision of rooming with each other and got into an inevitable fight.
>OP was too much of a pussy to ever try and help his friend out of addiction and thus was a enabler.
>OP makes a sad post on Sup Forums about how his friend died

Sorry man

This. You're a cunt OP. It should have been you, you fucking malignant narcissist.

I read through that entire story, waiting for the part where you would suck each other off.

What kind of fucking person are you?

You knew since he was 19 he was having these depressing thoughts, his long sleeve shirts, and you wanted to act like a superior douche bag knowing this.

I hope you learned a valuable lesson about life and fragility. He gave you everything, and you pushed him away. You can push the person away irl, but good luck trying to push the memories away.

Go fuck yourself.

He's dead because of you.

He was hoping for years for his best friend to pull him out of the gutter to save him from death. Every time you ran into him and him acting so friendly to your unfriendly presence, was him asking you to save his life. In his greatest hour of need, you stomped out whatever embers were still burning in his empty vessel of a soul.

You killed him. Live with that, or go and join him.

Nice 'tears in rain' piece. I've lost people, and it's funny how noble the dead are to us, but not alive. Then they slow turn to ghosts in our memories, 2 dimensional pictures that get greyer with time.

Bam, right in the feels.

You are loved.

theres mean things that should be expected from posting something vulnerable on an anonymous forum site where people take out their anger or just act up or masturbate. you hopefully know that. theres not much i can tell you i dont think.

im sure you hold more regret than you know what to do with, and that, mixed with a feeling of also having lost someone that was one of the strongest pillars of my growing up... i can only say im sorry, and that if you are religious... he's in a better place from what it sounds like. if you are not... well brother im just sorry. thank you for sharing

-f