People keep asking me, how are you feeling, what are you feeling? I have no answers. Honestly, what can you say about a 19 year old who dies? Everyone wants to talk about how he died, too, but who cares? One moment his whole life. I care more about how he lived, and anyone who has a problem with that should remember that he was my brother.
This isn’t real. I’m not going home for this. He’s going to be there.
I’m going to spend my entire life missing him. *