Beyond our mortal coil

Today I found out I lost a friend.
His name is Brett and having diabetes at such an early age means that they don't expect you to have a long life but it never means you can really prepare for it. Death comes when it comes and if it is your time to meet your maker you will. It is much better to rejoice a friend's passing because they get to leave this mortal coil and move on to who knows what we can only dream about.

That idea is still not stopping the tears streaming down my face right now. It is not stopping me wishing we could of hung out one more time and shared our secrets and laughs just like old times.
It is not stopping me thinking I should have called more often to shake him out of his shell.
His last home didn't fit him... 80s decor of forest green and burgundy and furniture with patterns on it. His roommate wasn't that styling a homosexual (some of them do have bad taste). I wanted to take him out of his environment and make him hang out in mine, he never got to see my house, or my piano. Or my kitties.
We went to school together, we worked together, we lived together, we grew together, and for that latter I am most thankful for.
So I guess all that's left.
For me is to give thanks and praise.
Not many have touched my heart like my baby Brett. So brilliant, he was in honors courses in college and had a masters in theatre. You couldn't keep your eyes off of him when he was on stage, he compelled you to be absorbed in his every word. He directed my one woman show, and helped me be completely truthful in my moments. He was teaching theatre at the local community college and planned to go back to school. He loved to learn. He was buddhist. Strove for a peace in his soul, and now I hope he's achieved it. There are I'm sure so many of us who got to be a part of Brett's life, we are all better for his presence.
And all the more lonely in his absence.