"I can't tell you how many times I have restarted this video. I don't know how to word this. Nothing I say can give justice to the true horrendous-ness of what happened, what I witnessed.

I don't want to be doing this, I really don't. But I feel like it's my responsibility to tell you guys.

Phil passed away October 3rd 2015.

The truth is, Phil had cancer. He was riddled with it. When we found out, we did everything, I did everything. I swear. I shepherded him to every doctor's appointment, every chemo session. I did everything I could to help. He did everything he could do to prolong his time with us. Even if that thing made him crazy sick.

Chemo made him crazy sick. After a session he would throw up his guts for days. He wouldn't be able to eat or sleep. He even fainted a couple times. Luckily, or unluckily, however you look at it, they gave up on chemo. He got to keep his hair.

They also told him he would only live for a few more weeks. He was terminal, and they had nothing to help him.

We cried that day. Me, him, his family, our friends. We cried our eyes out.

Funnily enough, Phil recovered the quickest. He pulled himself together and told us he was ok about dying. He told us he had made peace with it. He refused to get upset even when his mother gave me an emergency number for when it happened.

When we got back to our apartment, I went to my room, and cried until I couldn't anymore. It had hit me that I was going to be the one to find him when he passed. It broke my heart.

Phil got weaker by the day. He could do less and less by himself but he still kept a smile on his face. He was still cheerful. He still had the Phil personality that we all knew.

He was an inspiration.

In that much pain, but still able to be himself.

It helped me cope. I think it helped everybody cope. I think he was determined to be happy for as long as possible.

When he was having a bad day, I wrapped him up in a blanket on the couch and we talked and laughed about all the good times we had had.

The day he passed he was really sick. His energy was non-existent and his breathing was raspy. I sat him on the sofa to watch Buffy, even made pancakes even though he wasn't hungry. Then I curled up with him and held him to my chest, trying to keep him calm as his heart raced. He told me he was scared of dying, and him saying that, after all those weeks of him keeping positive, I knew. It was his last day.

I reminded him of everything we had achieved together. I talked and held him until he wasn't scared anymore.

After a while he turned to me and said he was exhausted, but afraid of closing his eyes because he knew he wasn't going to wake up. I told him it was ok, that I loved him more then he could imagine. I told him to let go, that it was time for him to let go and be the angel he always was.

I rocked his thin body as I sung him to sleep and held his hand as his last tears came tumbling down his cheeks, as his eyes closed, as he whispered his last words. "Dan, I love you so much. Thank you." I held him as his final breath slipped away.

It was very peaceful, and I made sure he wasn't alone and he knew how much he was loved.

So Phil, if you're listening, I just want to thank you for being my best friend. I can't possibly thank you enough. You saved me from myself. I will never forget you, and I hope you're in a better place now.

Phil was more amazing then any of us could have imagined."