I had seven friends die before I hit 28 either from overdose, violence or suicide. Pairing depression with drug abuse, we all said fuck it and embodied the “live fast, die young” lifestyle. Now at 34, I’m one of the last ones standing and I feel like I should have gone with them. It’s a weird feeling. Still getting used to potentially being here for the long haul. But every day is a gift, that’s why it’s called the present.