Andrew

I've had a friend named Andrew. We used to tell each other some funny stories, go to some fucked up adventures. When I reminisce about those times, I always have a smile on my face.

Nowadays though, we don't really speak. Yes, I tell him about my life, new girlfriends, new job offers, but he never replies.

Andrew used to be the social star. Whenever he would be in a company, there was bound to be an aura of happiness around him. His jokes, cheerfulness and overall attitude to me and other people was so refreshing. He never judged people, he always gave them second chances, he…was what I strive to be till today.

But. You know there's always that but in good stories. When something is going to perfect to be true, there's always going to be something, that fucks everything up.

Andrew, as aspiring he was in a social life, was a totally depressed and lost person when he was alone. Sometimes, he would call me and ask wether I'm free to meet and just sit. Deadass he would call me at night, drive to me and just sit in a complete silence, staring at one spot, not uttering a word, as if afraid to loose sanity.

It always scared me, how one could change so much depending on the environment. I know that he used to visit a psychiatrist, was a heavy drunker, but I thought that it was all in the past…

One night, I get a call from Andrew and he wanted to came and as usual just sit on my sofa and stare at a wall. I remember it being winter, I was very stressed at work and wanted to sleep, so I told him to fuck off because I sas busy.

Busy my ass.

Yesterday, I met up with him at our usual spot. Him laying down and me crying on a bench with two flowers, broken and full of regrets.

Andrew was my savior, but none were his.