ReI am not usually one to weep over the dead. At a very young age I learned to accept that death is indeed the end of every creature, human and otherwise. I had learned how not to shed a tear, to nod in silent reflection on the lives of those lost. I had even imagined in my head that I could watch the life snuffed out of another and  not flinch, heck, I was a boss in my mind; death could not move me. I had watched enough videos where people had their heads severed from their bodies (Thanks ISIS), I was ‘ready’ for death. Nothing prepared me for the shock and disbelief I felt when I was told you were gone though, I was totally unprepared.  Continue reading