I think I've found out the time it takes to start referring to someone in the past-tense. It's about an hour or two after you realize that they're gonna be gone for a very long time. I mean they're not dead, but it seems almost like they are. I know they certainly wish they were. It just gets even more real when you think about the whole process. Starting by imagining what thoughts ran through that person's head when they decided to make the stupid impulsive decision to place themselves in peril. They run from home to their final destination hoping to find some fun, only to be faced with the greatest mistake of their lives. They run mad with regret when they realize what they had done back to their home to find some shred of comfort, only to be scooped up by the hand of authority.
And now, they languish in the cells of Sutter County Jail. A friend, a brother, but ultimately a maker of bad decisions. I'll visit every chance I can, but I do hope I can have his Xbox.
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