My cousin, Serge, died Friday morning.

I can’t believe how selfish I am. I mean, am I cold? I knew he wouldn’t make it because he was barely living, not even surviving. I hid these feelings all day. So many people have tears for him, and I shed none. It hurts so much inside.

He’s close, he’s family, and he’s my friend, and I mourn. I wish for things that cannot be, can’t exchange places, can’t give my life so he’ll have his, and so fourth. I’d do it in a heartbeat, and no matter the cost. I mean, I would.

I condemn the fate that thought it was his time. He deserved to live without any of that, without the accident. I can say so much, but again, it’s just words. It’s nothing.