Kevin found it hard to function in the days that followed Eli’s death. Every day was a battle between consciousness and sleep. Kevin existed in a place between reality and a dreamland, between the harsh reality of losing Eli and the depths of his mind where the sweet memories still remained.

He had somehow managed to keep it together for the funeral. He organised it well and accepted people’s condolences. His hands had shaken so much that Kiseop had had to tie his black tie for him.

As soon as the funeral ended - and there was no more organising needed, no more things to be done - Kevin crashed. It was as if he no longer knew how to live, not in a world without Eli.

If not for Kiseop, Kevin would have undoubtedly gone without food and would never have left the house. Kiseop visited Kevin every day, often staying the night. He made meals for his grieving friend to improve his declining health, but could do nothing about the depression which was surely tightening its grip on Kevin’s heart.

The days that Kevin did leave the house, his feet unconsciously carried him to the hospital. Sometimes he would smile and think I’m going to meet Eli today then he would be reminded of Eli’s death and his smile would instantly disappear.

He slept on the floor sometimes, amidst a bundle of Eli’s photographs. The picture from their first date; the time they visited the zoo; the time Kevin helped Eli look for an apartment… All these happy memories were captured on individual sheets of paper which Kevin treasured more dearly than anything else.

Sometimes, Kiseop would