You were my best friend. I loved you more than life, and gave anything you needed willingly and without expectation. Unlike the losers you spend your time with, who use booze and coke to get you into bed. I still love you, but I can't stand by and watch your life fall apart, or watch my favorite person sink into addiction. How many times did you cry on my shoulder when men treated you like a whore? Watching you embrace the role is far, far more painful. I love you, K, more than anything. Being away from you for the last week has been murder, and I've cried more tears in your name than I can count. You've been abusive and cruel to me since December. This is not how I've treated you, and I did nothing to deserve it. I know your addictions are at fault, and despite my unconditional love for you I have to love myself enough to walk away from you. I know I'm not done mourning you yet. I just hope I'm only mourning your absence from my life, and don't find myself mourning the end of yours. You're always in my thoughts, my dearest, sweetest friend. —The Man Upstairs