Saying Goodbye.

I’ve put off writing this because it didn’t feel real. But it’s time.
.
Josh, you’re gone. You’re not coming back. And that thought is so hard for me to wrap my head around. No words I can write can fully express the void your death has left.
.
I watched you struggle with your health for so many years. When we started out, I knew that there was a chance that this day could come. This was my greatest fear all those years, that the cancer you’d already battled twice in different forms would come back a third time and take you away for good. On January second my worst fear came to pass; a deadly disease finally took you. My one small consolation is that you didn’t know your life was ending when you went into the coma. You went in like you’ve always been, a fighter.
.
We may have ended our romantic partnership a while ago, but our friendship spanned nearly a decade. We went through so much together, there are so many memories. You were the one constant in my life through so many major life changes; you were the one who was there for me when so few others were. You were there when so many others walked away after my beliefs changed and I came out as LGBTQ. I will never forget that. I don’t know how I would have endured the rejection and judgment without your support. You showed me how to think for myself, you taught me how to question things that others accepted without question. It’s a life skill I desperately needed to learn.
.
You were one of the best people I’ve ever known, and now the world doesn’t get to really see you in the way you deserved. The world is a much darker place without you in it. Despite the grief and loss that I’m experiencing now, I wouldn’t change any of it. What you brought into my life was worth the pain I feel now.
.
Love takes many forms; it’s not always romantic. I still loved you, even if it was a different kind of love than we started out with. I suppose a part of me always will.
.
I don’t want to say goodbye. It brings too many tears, and I’m already running low on tissues. But if I don’t, I’ll keep convincing myself that you’re just busy, that I’ll get a text any day now. Or that I’ll run into you downtown and we’ll catch up on life like we always did. I’ll keep trying to pretend that this was all just a big mistake, even though deep down I know it’s not. It’s become impossible to pretend anymore. And yet the thought of adjusting to this new reality is so hard to bear.
.
Goodbye, Josh. You were loved.
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