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Here we are, another week, another month. Difficult to know what would be best, for time to slow down or go faster. The last seven months have gone by really fast, and that seems to have robbed me of Andrew even more.
The first day of the month of November, seven months ago today, was the last time that I spoke to Andrew, on the phone.
It wasn’t even a long conversation, it was the morning after a late Halloween, and he sounded tired. I didn’t keep him. Thirty eight hours later Andrew was dead.
I think about Andrew constantly, constantly. Sometime I visualize him so hard, hoping to make him appear by the power of my thought.
All your friends are home from college now, but not you.
And this is another month without you my love