the art of loss

He was one of those friends you were close to all the way through university, but who you drifted from when you went your separate ways. We were still friends, we still cared, but we were no longer spending every other night watching crappy TV and eating pizza in our pyjamas. There was still ‘happy birthday’ and ‘merry christmas’ and ‘this reminded me of you’ but there was also time zones and distance and the busy, hectic lifestyle that comes with being an early 20-something and trying to find your way in the world. We weren’t as close as we had once been, we didn’t talk as often. But that didn’t make it any easier to hear that he had died.

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