Four years ago, on February 25th, you took your life.
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He stood in the rain, where he and his friend had stood years ago. He stared at the spot where his friend would always stand, sadness enveloping him. His friend was long gone– he had died many years ago, having committed suicide. He set down a pair of shoes he had in his hand, the pair of shoes his friend dreamed of always owning. The black and white converse got soaked in the rain. He set them down in his friend's place and stepped back, pulling out his phone. He snapped a picture, his shadow seeming to fill the empty shoes. The ground began to flood as it had many years ago, when they would both stand in that same spot. It almost made it feel like his friend was still alive. Almost.
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