You died.
You really, actually, died.
I went to your funeral, we filled it with crew.
We cried.
A lot.
The boys stood there with sunnies on, trying to be tough.
I hugged a lot of people.
I was sorry that I was quitting, I felt so much closer to so many people.
I really worked that shift where I could hardly serve for crying.
We really sat in the crew room and cried for an hour.
I really worked there.
You really existed.
I really knew you.
You really died.
istillcantlistentothepowerofyourlove
