One of my best friends died 12 years ago in our late 20s. I know he is dead, and yet a couple times a month I think, "Oh, I haven't talked to him in a while, I should text him!" before my logical brain kicks in and lets me know the deal.
There is a dumb part of me that wants to believe, "Oh, he probably faked his death to get out of debt." He was such a schemer, if anyone would, he would. It was an open casket funeral. I know he is dead.
It's not a disorder. I just have mental pathways built that lead to a person who was integral to my life for many years, a person who does not exist on this plane anymore. I want him back in my life. Death is just difficult.
He was a genuine source of both encouragement and constructive criticism the likes I have had not had before or since. I miss you, Meka.
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