The death of Trevor

It's amazing how long you can go without seeing someone who was once close to you. They may have once been a main character of your life where you wouldn't pass even one weekend without meeting up, but once that phase ends and you find yourself in a new, you're able to go to the edge of life without speaking. The edge of life. Not completely off the cliff. Because once someone from your old life is dying you feel the need to meet again. And for what?

I knew I was less sentimental than the rest, but never knew just how much until
Trevor Macomb
died my sophomore year of college. Unlike the other kids who raced home in his final days, I never did get that last conversation with him before he left. Instead I had stayed at school for finals, thinking it wouldn't make a difference. But by the time I was driving back home he was already gone. 

Gone physically, but in spirit I felt his presence stronger than ever. It was like everybody was connected through this Trevor aura that was flowing through town. It felt like we were back in high school. Back when we were all we had.

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