I had to clean out his apartment with his brother. I still think about him. A lot. I'll never completely know what happened in his final moments. Maybe I don't want to. Wasn't til I went through similar things in my life that brought me close to the edge that I empathised with him. While I don't regret anything since I was always trying to help him I miss our phone calls and hanging out. There are days I wonder what if he'd just pulled through. Then I turn on the radio to think about something else...