2013. You were in your fifth year of high school. I was in my first year of university. You discussed your excitement for the future. I discussed the overwhelming workload. You comforted me. I promised to show you around campus. You complained about regular things. I complained about regular things. At the end of the day, you always made me laugh.

That’s just the way it was.

Scrolling through our phones on a February night, Brooke and I’s eyes were suddenly fixed upon words we could not, nor did not, want to believe. It had to be untrue. However, as the night unfolded, a crippling truth was revealed. Our hearts shattered.

Nick, once university began, I know we did not talk everyday like we used to and I regret that. I promised to show you around. I imagined you walking the same routes to class, studying in the same workspaces, maybe having a class or two together.

Setting foot on campus days after your passing was much worse than the sadness I felt entangled in the comfort of my own bed. The day was a blur. All I remember is the lonely, alienated feeling of walking amongst my peers as they socialized and laughed. I walked alone absorbed by my simultaneous heavy-heartedness, anger and confusion. I couldn’t understand their happiness.

I was left with a promise I will never be able to fulfill. Even though this rests heavy upon my shoulders, the good memories remain unspoiled and prevail over those feelings of guilt and despair. You were a good one, Nicky.