Morgan, I so badly want to talk to you right now. I want to continue where we left off on existential questions. There was another plan for you and I surely hope we meet again one day. I’m glad to have met someone like you, a completely platonic relationship, just us the Idea Exchangers. We had the most amazing existential conversations. We understood each other, picked apart illogical thinking, sometimes letting illogical thinking flow. We got each other. I miss you Morgan.
I keep trying to find someone like you. Sometimes I can’t even look at any male with your skin tone, for fear they’ll remind me of you. Being reminded of you is bittersweet. Bitter because all I have are memories, sweet because they are awesome memories. I wouldn’t trade them.
Recently I divulged some of my past, the extreme parts to a peer, one who I thought I was friends with. This is such drama Morgan. I told her some of my biggest secrets, she hugged me said she was sorry I had to go through all that. I texted her twice over the the past week without response. Nothing urgent, nothing needy, just wanted to hang out, watch movies. Morgan, remember when we’d stay up late watching movies? Remember. How. You. Always. Wanted. To. Watch. A Beautiful Mind? Ironic that you died from overdosing and leave it up to my guessing that your drug use had a lot to do with self medication for the same disease that actor had. And that I found up you died eight days before I was about to post something to your wall. You didn’t tell me, you couldn’t and a social networking site is what notifies me of your passing.
I’m taking a Health Psychology class. Last week, the professor substituting for our class spoke in detail about eating disorders. being one of my recently divulged secrets, my friend kept glancing at me, and giving me they pity look. In class yesterday, I walked in and saw my “friend”. She looked odd. I asked her if she was ok. She said, “yeah that’s the second time you’ve asked me that”. Well first of all, friends check up on one another. Second, my reply: “I texted you twice.” She said she didn’t get them. A plausible and hard to believe response from someone attached to her phone.
This too was all before the major fallout. The fallout probably wouldn’t be such an extreme thing, not if you were here Morgan because I’d have more support. That’s just it though, since you died, I find it really difficult to make friends, especially close ones. I’m afraid they’ll die before their time is up. I can’t bear any more losses at this time. B is doing just that, killing herself, potentially quickly. She knows it, she knows it’s gotten to the point with feeding tube attached to her stomach, where she weighed the equivalent of a fourth grader and while three times their age. She was the one who gave me hope and now I have to try to somehow give her hope and put my jealously aside. I don’t think I’m strong enough. I’m glad I went to the support group last night because she went… And B stayed… The whole time which was more than she predicted. It was good for her, at least in that moment. I wonder how she’s doing now. I want to ask, I want so badly to reconnect with her, and yet I don’t. Because I’m afraid and jealous and those two entities don’t usually mix well together in constructing a friendship.
I guess there aren’t many people like you after all Morgan. People who are ridiculously, shamelessly non- judgmental. I wish there were more people like you buddy. Most of all, I wish you were here.

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