Ever since I lost my close friend I've lost all motivation. I used to think life rewarded those who worked hard and made a difference but they take it from those who deserve it the most. My friend did not deserve to die. He did no wrong, he never hurt anyone, yet isn't here today. I don't understand what the point of going on is for, and what the point of growing up is when it can so suddenly be taken. I hate opening up to others now because what happened to him can happen to anyone else. The secrets we shared died with him, but live in me, when I have no right to share them.
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