When I was coming up, where I am from, how I was raised, we were not able to say that a boy or man is/was “beautiful.” I ditched that traditional monkey years ago. Your friend, who seems as though to have been more like a brother to you, was beautiful. Just in this picture alone, joy oozes from his closed-mouth smile.
He could have been anyone’s light based on this picture alone, you too. Grief is a struggle. A serious struggle. It revisits us without permission, naked to viewers, waiting to be held. I wish you continued peace and the ability to reflect on memories that make you smile.
This story upsets and saddens me. The things we deal with in life sometimes should never exist.