A friend of mine died yesterday
We both went to the same high school. During the entire five years there we shared not one class. I'd see him occasionally after school on weekends and on summer vacation.
He was a lot tougher than I was. He didn't pick fights but he wouldn't back down either. He once came out on top after being jumped by four guys one wielding a baseball bat which broke his arm. I wasn't with him but the guy who was stayed in the car and didn't help him.
My friend never forgave him for that. I can't be too harsh on his friend because i don't know what I would have done under the same circumstances either. I'm glad I was home that day so I'll never know whether I would have wimped out or not. His friend died of lung cancer anyway so he didn't have to suffer his guilt long.
Time went by and my friend and I grew older. Our paths would cross from time to time during the various stages of our lives. I'd go ten years without seeing him but wed always meet again and talk about the good ol days.
My friend wasn't perfect. He liked his liquor and dope and it eventually cost him his health. He developed diabetes and grew weak. His health failed and got worse as time went by. At age 68 he broke a hip and after what appeared to be a successful operation his heart just stopped.
Ok so here I am and there he is deceased.
He's dead because he liked to party. He drank and he smoked and he did dope. This cost him his heart and liver.
I'm alive because I liked to stay home and sit around reading and watching TV. I often wonder which of us is better off.
He spent a few years in prison for transporting drugs in Florida. After his release he calmed down a bit but not entirely. He did swear that he would never go back to prison again.
He had stories and I don't. He's dead and I'm alive. Some would say that if I live to be a hundred I'll not have lived as much as he did.