Michael

My cousin killed himself yesterday. He'd turned 18 on April 13th. I found out this morning.
When we were little, we looked like twins, acted like it too. We were inseperable until we were about six and seven. He was a year and a few months older than me.
His life was hellish. He didn't really ever know his dad, his mom and Blake, the man who acted as his father and fathered his siblings, were forever breaking up and getting back together. I think they got married two or three times. His mom was an alchie and a slut and his dad had some anger issues. He was so neglected, a difficult kid to begin with, and left to fend for himself.
God... We were like siblings until I was ten and my dad moved to Texas.
And now he's gone.

I've been in this totally surreal state all day. I keep thinking that I'm going to wake up and this will all be a bad dream.
But I'm not going to wake up, and this isn't a bad dream. This is life and this is now. And now is that my cousin is dead. He's a year and a few months older than me and dead.
And he's not coming back.
Ever.
And I've cried so much today... I haven't cried this much all at once since my dad went to Texas when I was starting the sixth grade.

And the funeral means I have to see him too.
I don't know what I'm going to do.