today the funeral for my best friends stepfather took place.
a few days ago he lost his second father (or at least father figure) in his tiny eighteen years of life.
i can't imagine how hard it must be to loose two fathers in only eighteen years, and how hard it must be for his mother. i only feel helpless and deeply sorry, but that's nothing compared to their feelings.
again i've learned that life is precious and that one should not waste it or throw it away so easily, and again i've learned that actually i am the lucky one because my story isn't hardest, though it may destroy.

it pains me so much to see his tears, and lately there's no shine in his eyes and his smile is artificial.
he hardly cries. he's such a brave little sparrow. i promised to visit the grave with him, and i'll keep his fragile soul together and hold his hand. we'll take a walk under the withering trees and play hide-and-seek between the tombstones, and we'll laugh - because graveyards are the playground of us shattered.

i'll try to be there for him as good as i can.