His name was Matt Adair, that's why I called him "Matt-ador" and he was Kyle's friend. They bowled together on a team every Friday night and he even spent the night at our house once so he wouldn't have to drive home drunk. Personally I only met him twice, but Kyle knew him. Those who know my husband also know that he does not have many friends, so those few are important to him. That makes this loss all the more difficult. And it was difficult receiving that phone call from Kyle yesterday, his voice was shaky and I could hear the hurt coming through the phone. "He was my friend," that's all he could say to me. More than anything I wanted to reach through that phone line and hug him, hard.
Details of Matt's passing have not yet been made known to us; right now it is only known that his body was found in his apartment by his family. My whole heart goes out to them, no parent should have to bury their child, no matter how old they are. Kyle made Chevii promise that she wouldn't die until after he did; I know she didn't fully understand but she promised anyway.
The funeral is Saturday. Kyle will be driving a van from work to the funeral for those who wish to attend but cannot afford to go on their own. That is so like Kyle to take action in order to pull himself through the grief.
As for me, it may be a while before I know what to feel. Part of me almost feels guilty if I cried for him because I didn't know him. But I also want to cry for Kyle because he did know Matt and I see Kyle's grief and that hurts me too.
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