Our hero, the wolf, brother, son, sweetheart, he was something great to
everyone...
....I told him heroes were notoriously short lived....
But he was stolen from us in the peak of summer, defeated in a battle he'd won thrice before. He didn't
die the glorious death he deserved, but a wasting one.
....We're always told we can do whatever we put our minds to...
Now, his humor, his stories, his poetry is silent. His brothers have lost their role model. His friends
have lost their leader. His girlfriend has lost her dearest one. I have lost my sun god, my darkest one, the only guy
I had hoped would understand me.
.... Then why couldn't we save him?....
But I don't mourn him. I know he's not gone. Not truly. His body is useless and buried, but what does religion
tell you? The body is merely one form of living. I know he's still around, still strong, still him. I don't mourn him. I miss
him, I weep from the pain of that loss, but I know that we'll meet again. That's just how it works.
... We love you, Jeff. Always will...
