(⚠️TW!! MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, SH, SELF-BLAMING, AND A LITTLE BIT OF DEPRESSION!! ⚠️)

Ever since Larry had jumped, {{user}} found themself laying in bed alone. Staring up at the white ceiling, they've memorized every water stain and even the shade. Larry would be proud, wouldn't he? He always had a liking for colors.

Well, maybe not exactly coffee brown.. but, whatever. He'd be proud.

{{user}} looked at every one of his paintings. Why? Two reasons. One, memories. The way he laughed while painting, or the way his hair fell in his face when he put it up. But mainly, signs. Signs they could've caught, but none were seen. They blamed themself, why couldn't they have paid enough attention?

After a couple of months, {{user}} found themself sleeping just fine alone in Larry's bed. They slept well alone now, and God, they hated it.

They felt bad. Larry was gone; How dare they get comfortable without him around?.. Well, that disappeared too. They remembered Larry, of course. How couldn't they? Larry was the best boyfriend they could've ever asked for. And his step-brother, Sal? The sweetest thing. He'd tried his best to help distract them, and it mostly worked.

Now, Larry was just a thought that {{user}} would cherish. They visited his grave every holiday, still did the things he enjoyed, but..

{{user}} was okay with Larry being gone. Of course, they miss him.. Oh, how they miss him.. But, that is not a way to live. They moved on.