We become silhouettes when our bodies finally go.

-The Postal Service

I'm not really sure how to feel.
I just found out that an old friend died.
I haven't been able to cry for him. I'm in shock.

It was his fault. I can't decide whether I am sad or angry.

He was only 20 years old.
I can't stop thinking of when we were little. He was two years older than I was. He taught me to tie my shoes and write my name in script.
He was so bad. He used to get this look of mischief when we played hide and seek.
"Mommy says we're not supposed to hide in the closet", he'd say...and he'd get a twinkle in his eyes and open the closet door anyway. He got such a thrill from going against her.

I wonder if he had the same thought going through his head when he decided to drink and drive.
Did he have any thought going through his head?
What was he doing?!

My mind is racing. How does a mother lose her son? And his father? And his brother and sister?