It’s been a month since you left. I hate this. It’s been hell. The worst part has been telling my son. Having to explain to a 5 year old who idolized you that you are gone at the young age of 27 has been brutal. He misses you dearly and I will never forgive you for this. We both have lost our best friend. I will keep living life for the both of us. I’ve decided that. I’ll adapt your ways to mine. Your strength, bravery, kindness. I’ll make them mine. Your cat Lucille is safe with me. You joined that infamous 27 club that musicians whisper of and I’m still here, raising hell for the both of us. Your birthday is on the first of October. That’s going to be hard. Miss you, hate you, love you.-Sav