Subject line: you're not mine to grieve.

 

agloe, new york.

It’s been a year since you’ve died. I wasn’t even that close to you; we were casual acquaintances. We had some of the same friends; we cared deeply about the same people and lived for the same God. But we never confided in each other, never spent the time together that it takes to build the kind of friendship where I deserve to feel so much pain in your passing. Then why do I still cry every time I think of you?