for once in my life, i miss being picked on, beaten up, laughed at, left gasping for breath on the floor. you're my idea of a bestfriend. telling me to close my eyes because you're going to put whipped cream in my mouth. which actually turned out to be mr. cheese. it hasn't sunk in that you're gone. i'm expecting this to be one of your evil plans, for you to pop up and just laugh at me for worrying because you frequently told me everything will be okay. i expect to walk past your house and you'll be polishing you car and all you can hear is either greenday, slipknot or muse blasting from your speakers. but you're really gone. i just can't come to terms with it. i hope you're okay wherever you are. but for now, sleep tight.