With tears running down her cheeks, she came to tell me about the horrific news - that we all waited for in fear. He took his last breath and left this world with an angel-like glow on his beautiful face.

 

I refused to listen, and went back to sleep, but woke up an hour later to get ready to leave..

When I was walking through the door of my room, she stopped me to tell me the tragedy again. And this time I listened and after processing it, broke down in tears.

 

Who will, who will, who will..

 

I miss him. And will probably never stop missing him..

But one thing I've realized is that he will be with us - he still is with us. And I can't and will most certainly not get used to using past tense when reffering to him.

 

"I'm sorry for your loss", they say.. What loss? He isn't gone! 

But slowly you have to start realizing the truth.. His body is gone, but his pure and good soul is in a better place.

 

When losing people like him, from his generation, you will know what loss is.. Why? Because we're lucky if we become half as good, third as pure as them. Being loved by every single person is evidence to what he is, to what he was.