Have we really come this far? Is it this time already? As I glance through the glass at you, at your pale face, I can't help but wonder. A year ago, you were diagnosed with cancer. You were given six months. After this time was up, I was by your side night and day. After a month or so, it seemed you would live longer than your expected limit. I thought, or hoped really, that you would get better. But I was wrong. These last few months you have slowly drifted away from us. And now I sit, eyes brimming with tears, as you live out your final moments. Life can be so cruel. And then suddenly, it hits me. I thought I was mourning for you, but I was mourning for myself. I am not mourning for your pain, but for mine. I am mourning because I believe I will never see you again. But I am wrong. I was right before. You are getting better, but it is in your own way. Every step you take away from us, gets you that much closer to being well again. I will see you again. I will visit you in your new home. But until that day...good-bye, my friend.