For the last 48 hours, my life has been surreal. I feel as though I'm just going through the motions. Sunday evening my parents called me to tell me that Ben, a childhood friend, was found dead in his apartment. He had asthma and it appears he had an attack that he couldn't get under control and no one was there to help him.
Nothing makes less sense than someone dying young. We're only 28.
I hate that there is so much that he'll never get to know and do... so many experiences that he and his family will miss because he isn't here. It doesn't make sense and nothing will ever explain it.
Ben is one of the kids that I spent every waking moment with from the age of 5 until 13, we lived in a small town in Georgia and all of my memories, riding bikes, swimming, racing across the playground, etc. involve him and a couple other friends. School projects, baseball games, bike wrecks and backyard football - images of an ideal childhood involving my friend Ben.
I ache for his family. Parents should never have to bury their child.