Last Best Friend: Living With the Loss
Well, dammit, I’ve done it. I’ve done another adult thing. I think I’ve had my last best friend. Last BFF. Last ride-or-die. The last Vin Diesel to my Paul Walker.
Well, dammit, I’ve done it. I’ve done another adult thing. I think I’ve had my last best friend. Last BFF. Last ride-or-die. The last Vin Diesel to my Paul Walker.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?