Travis and I used to fight and argue constantly. We were both naturally headstrong, which made us tough opponents. It seemed like everytime I started the argument, he would win, and everytime he would be the cause, I would win. It was a constant cycle of winning and losing, cheating and lying, crying and laughing.

Before he died, I never understood how important he was in my life -- he was, in fact, the building blocks that kept me together. While I sometimes tried pushing him away, there he was, refusing to leave my side. He angered me, but at the same time I was secretly hoping he would never vanish. He protected me from everything that tried to bring me down, from the disorder, the guilt, the crime, the habit, and the cocaine .. wait, I take that back, he never tried to end the cocaine. Why is that? Because he loved that damn cocaine, him and I would snort a few lines everyday. Sometimes it was enough lines to send us straight into the hospital, but I guess we had high tolerances. He always said we were immune to the dangers of cocaine, but not to the sweet high. Maybe, he was right.

The crazy thing about Travis and I was the fact we weren't even a couple, though, no doubt, we walked, talked, and acted like one. We had sex, twice a day everyday, we went everywhere together.. parties and the like, but yet we were never officially together. He told me the last thing he'd do was marry me, and I said the same to him, because God and Satan both knew well we were never meant to be. I would have killed him, or he would've killed me by the time we both reached thirty years old.

We were like night and day. Though, those two have some similarities.

Getting into that accident was the most idiotic thing Travis has ever done, and yes, I do blame him for his own death. He planned it, like he planned everything, he knows it, and he left me here alone in an empty abyss. We are all the cause of our own deaths, and mine isn't far down the road.

In memory of Travis Tyler Thompson, may you burn in hell you son of a bitch.