Almost a decade ago I started dating him- His name was Austin.

A local hookah lounge was doing a singles night for Valentines day where they set up game systems and such. A guy was harassing me at the bar, and Austin stepped in. He invited me to sit with him and his friends, and made sure I felt safe and that the guy left me alone. We were going to go half and half on a hookah, but he paid for it entirely. When I asked why, he looked away, and said:

"Please don't take this the wrong way-- but I did come here hoping to meet someone. You're really cute, and I'd like it if I could take you on a date sometime. If not, I totally understand, and its absolutely okay if you would prefer to keep things platonic."

I smiled and said, "This could be our first date; I'd love to get to know you." I'll never forget the way his eyes lit up, or his crooked smile. He had this big toothy grin, a face full of freckles, and the most beautiful hazel eyes I'd ever seen.

After this we would date for nearly two years. During this time, my home situation got increasingly volatile, and Austin's family offered to house me so that I could get away from the abuse I was enduring. Austin and his family protected me from so much-- they really are such wonderful people; words cannot express the amount of gratitude I have for them.

During the course of our relationship, Austin and I had a lot of ups and downs. Somewhere along the way realized that we were much better as friends. The breakup was hard, but we split amicably, and we continued to be there for each other as friends. Austin always came through for me when I needed him-- even when I didn't deserve it. He treated me with kindness even when I spoke to him in anger.

He wasn't perfect, but he did his best to do right by others.

On April 12th, he passed away. We still do not know what killed him, as we are waiting on toxicology. My wonderful fiancé took me to the funeral, where I was able to say a proper goodbye and grieve alongside Austin's family.

When I saw Austin in his casket, I realized that they had dressed him in the same shirt he was wearing the night we met all those years ago. I expected him to sit up any time and flash me that crooked smile, tell me that it was all a prank and that he had gotten me so good. I'd punch him in the arm and call him an ass like I always did when he pulled his pranks. What I wouldn't give to hear his laugh one more time.

I can't get the image of him out of my mind. I can't stop thinking of how tightly his dad hugged me-- how his mother burst into tears and ran into my arms the second she saw me. How grown his siblings look now. The little boy I used to help with his English homework now is a man and was looking at me with tears in his big hazel eyes-- just like his brother.

I can still hear Austin's voice in my head, singing (badly) to the radio without a care in the world-- the sound of cicadas, and the warm Florida air whipping through his curly black hair. I don't think that we were ever in love, but I loved him, and I wouldn't be who I am today without having been touched by his influence.

I'm grateful I knew him, and I am grateful I was a part of his sendoff. He will be dearly missed.

This was my favorite photo I had of him:

SPOILER (click to toggle)

I'm sorry to hear this. It's always rough to lose someone near to us. I lost a friend a week before Christmas which was his literal favorite holiday. And shortly before his birthday. Nothing ever replaced the interpersonal impact someone else has on us and to lose it really feels like losing part of ones self. I hope you can navigate the grief as best as you can. Idk if you ever lost anyone before like this but know it IS normal to feel the grief in waves over the course of times and some situations may even cause anger at the idea they can't experience the things of life anymore.

oh my goodness i am sending my deepest, deepest condolences to you for the horrible loss of what sounds to be a truly wonderful and kind friend :c i hope that the beautiful happy memories you have of austin and the positive way he touched your life while he was here keeps his vibrant spirit alive forever in your thoughts ♥️

I can’t even imagine the pain you must be feeling right now and i am sending you the biggest, biggest hug ♥️ :c

your writing is lovely and you can tell how much light you brought to each others eyes. from someone who had to bury too many people way too early, it's shit. it really is. but its okay to have emotions and its ok to be not okay, and I think that you are doing the most wonderful thing by honoring and talking about your dear friend.

please continue to tell all the stories! it is so clear how your paths were destined to cross and how intertwined your stories are and will always be.

all the love to you.

p.s. what a wonderful photo, I can just feel the warmth radiating

I'm so sorry to hear about your friend as well -- losing someone around the holidays is especially tough. Thankyou for what you wrote, I find it really comforting to have the feelings like anger validated. I am angry -- I'm angry that he won't get to do all the things he wanted to do. I'm angry that he left this world alone, lying outside where nobody could hear him, unable to yell for help. I'm angry that the mother of his child couldn't be bothered to come to his funeral. It feels cathartic to give myself the permission to feel that. I know he'd forgive her, but I don't know that I ever can.

Thankyou so much for the kind words, friend. Its getting a bit easier to focus on the fond memories rather than the loss. One thing I find very comforting is that he and I had many deep discussion on topics of life and death-- He was very adamantly of the ideal that death is as natural as life and shouldn't be something to be feared or looked away from. I know that he wouldn't want anyone to be in pain over his loss. He used to say, "When I die, cremate me, put my ashes in a joint, and smoke me. That way I can go out exactly how I lived-- high as a kite." I cant help but smile when I think of that.

Thankyou -- It feels nice that I was able to successfully convey my feelings in my writing. Honestly, I didn't expect anyone to reply to this forum post, but I think that being able to write these things somewhere is very comforting -- as a teenager I found a lot of solace on Subeta for that very reason.

I'll never stop telling his story to anyone who would be receptive to hearing it. I've always felt that to be loved is to be known, and there were precious few people that knew him better than I. If there is some small gesture I can do to keep him bound to this world, even in thought, I'll do it.

He was such a warm, kind person. He tried so hard to be funny-- most of the time his reactions to his own jokes were way funnier than the jokes themselves. He was a big fan of puns and the type of humor that makes people audibly groan. I'm finding that while I am feeling the loss, I don't feel any pain recounting the good things. I think he'd want it to be that way.