"Edit - Delete - Goodbye". Those were the last words wrote to me last week. I'd purposely picked a fight. One final try to get him to seek help before I backed off to fight another day. His few remaining other friends have begged me to hang in there. Everyone's concerned about him; and everyone's afraid of his judgment and temper. Except me, though I should be. Where angels fear to tread and all that. He's a big guy. 6'3", 215 lbs, very athletic. Fast and strong. And very intelligent as well. Not the one you want plotting your demise, which mine he once did, when he was very angry. That was a couple of years ago. I didn't realize at the time it was the beginning of his descent. Now, he's locked himself in his room and won't come out. You can hear him muttering to himself and scribbling away. It's really hard to stand by and bear witness. I miss his old, healthy self. I miss his warm smile, his big hugs, his humor. Even his boring lectures about boring subjects. I fell asleep more than once while he was going on and on about something.(And sometimes I wasn't even drunk.) Awkward when you're the only other person in the room with him. Sigh. He'll be back. What makes me sad, is that I don't know if I want him to. Not as he is. But, never leave a good man behind, right?