Its hard

Sometimes I break down. I'll be doing something and think of how we use to make jokes about silly things. It's the summer before senior year. You should be here with me. Planning our road trip, having sleep overs and staying up till 5 am. Why did you have to start doing drugs. They made you depressed. Why wasnt I supportive, why wasn't I there for you. I turned my back and left you alone when you needed me most. I can't forgive myself for that. What made you feel like you had no choice. What made you run away. If I could go back I would stop you. Then maybe you wouldn't be in a treatment center for drugs and depression. My mom tried to get me to write you. But I couldn't make the thoughts in my head look right on the paper. There's nights where I lay in bed and look at our pictures and think where did my best friend go. I want to change eveythjng for you. My only prayer is that when you get out I can be here for you. Because I will be your support system

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