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I saw the shrine they made for you.
I wish you could have had them put your name on it.
I wish I knew what it was.
I wish you knew mine.

It's funny. I can still remember the way you smiled
We hadn’t talked for years, even then.
I remember sitting on the floor of that room as you showed one of your friends the ancient technology of the SNES. We had to make sure not to move around too much, because if we wobbled the floor the CRT would shut off.
We were young.
You were still young.
Every day, you seem a little younger.

Maybe we could have traded wardrobe tips.
Maybe we could have just talked.
(Maybe the only reason I’m here is because of you)
(Is it morbid that I realized the value of my life after you were gone?)

I don’t like dwelling on the what if’s.
There’s too many of them to count.
So I’ll keep them in a box, and take them out like old pictures.
(Sometimes I feel like I should have been there._
(But I wasn’t.)
(And I'm here._
(you,
aren’t.)
So.
This estrogen is for you, my friend.











I miss you.