The day I died was the supposedly John's best day of his life. I didn't die literally though, no. Only those four razor sharp words he said pierced right through my chest and cut out my heart leaving a gaping hole.

It was unexpected and since that day I could never be myself again until... He was so happy back then, so damn happy when he said it. And I couldn't believe but there he was. It was all truth.

I didn't even know he was into this! He never did this before. He never even gave any hints he was... And I was his best friend; I should've known earlier, I should've noticed something. But I didn't. Was I blind? Should I now like start wearing red glasses, use a walking stick and start licking people like Tee-Zee?

So what happened was: my best friend - the one I had a massive crush on for years now but was always, I admit it yes, scared as fuck to tell him - run up to me with this big stupid and adorable grin on his face and said, "Dave, I have a boyfriend!"

What would you do in this situation? When someone steals your best friend/huge crush from right in front of you, possibly hours/days before you wanted to confess? I faked a small smile, my last one for a long time now, "I didn't know you were into dudes," that's the first thing that came out of my mouth, I was quite surprised, I mentally slapped myself, "But that's... uh... Great!" fake excitement, if this could even be called excitement, "Who is he?"

His blue eyes seemed to sparkle when he looked at me, just like that time when I found a stray kitten and he tried to persuade me to keep it... If you think this is something anyone could easily resist, you are wrong - I ended up keeping the kitten.

We sat on my bed and he proceeded to tell me everything from the beginning, leaving out the guy's name, while I tried not to look depressed or jump right on him and kiss him 'till the sun rose... I guess this wouldn't be such a bad idea, maybe it would make John realise who he actually should chose as his boyfriend - aka me. No, I had to keep control. The cat saved me; it jumped on my lap demanding me to pet it and I focused on the soft black fur beneath my fingers. I had my head turned towards John, looking as if I was listening, but in fact I couldn't. My eyes were closed and I didn't even know what he was saying. I didn't want to know. Facebook... School... Just some of the words I remember.

Purr purr. I stroked the cat. It was the same one I've found two years ago. Her name was Socks but I referred to her as my daughter. This is a little joke me and John have - when I finally agreed to keep her, she became our daughter. Yes, mine and John's daughter. She grew up a lot over those two years and looked now more like an adult cat although not quite yet. She still was small, playful, sometimes clumsy and nearly always demanding attention serve for the times when she was sleeping, eating or god knows what doing when she was outside. I swear she was a ninja cat because she didn't use the door to go outside, she used my window. And I live on the fourth floor. I don't know how the cat did it... Maybe she was more Strider than Egbert after all...

"...and so he..." Dave. No. Focus on the cat on your lap. Do not start thinking how it all happened. Do not look at the happy dork that's sitting so close to you on your bed. He's not saying anything, he's just there all happy as usual. Just think about your cat...

I once went into a heated debate with John about whose surname should she inherit and ultimately, as joke family, which surname should we adapt... John insisted for his because it was him that really saved her, as otherwise I would have given her away to someone else, and because she was always so playful and loved to jump on people when they least expected it - just like John with his pranks. However, it was me who found her and she was a ninja cat, unnoticeable before she run straight onto you or the whole going out of the window thing... I must admit, the first time she did it I was terrified - I guess have grown attached to her by that time already. We went on a compromise and our family surname became Strider-Egbert.

"...and it was slightly weird but awesome..." John continued babbling. Usually it's the other way round - I'm the one that doesn't shut up while John tries to get me to stop talking/raping... "...and his name..." ...and then there was this one time... Wait.

"Who?!"