A sad feeling lingers in the room where my best friend lies. Hundreds of people surround me, mourning the loss of a dear friend from our tragic accident. I sit in the corner trying to take it all in, but every once in a while, someone I don’t recognize comes by to give me a hug and offer there condolences. Nobody ever brings up the accident that I blame myself for, but I feel it’s in the back of their mind.

As they brush pass me to go comfort the family, I can tell they are dressed nicely, and the color of their clothes matches the way they feel.

All I hear are the soft sobs coming from all those crying around me and the shuffling sound of the tissue box moving from person to person. The rare sound of laughter comes from where a few of his school buddies stand, telling stories about crazy things he did. Everyone celebrating his life in their own way.

I get a whiff of the sympathy bouquets when their scent wafts through the crowd. I haven’t been able to make it that close to the front. By the time the sent of the flowers get here, they blended together.

When leaving, trying to guide my way out of the funeral using my new cane. Knowing that I will never get to see him for the last time.