It was funny because just over twelve hours ago, we were laughing with each other through our phones. I can still remember the last things we said to each other.
‘So you’re going to be okay, right?’
‘Of course, but I’ve got to go now…’
It still passes through my mind, and it’s funny how I still tear up as our last conversation sneaks up on me.

Just a week ago, you were alive and not well. Leukemia had found it’s way to your doorstep and hadn’t bothered to leave. Less than a month ago, the disease had made its presence clear when they saw problems with your blood cells. I had deleted our texts from that day, hoping to never see something cancer related coming from you again, unless it was hope for remission.
‘I have cancer’
‘what?! Will you be okay?! Is it bad?!’
‘Trust me, dude, I’ll be fine’

But to everyone who wasn’t you, you really had been truly fine. That’s what you’d always tell us. You were the type of boy who’d rather suffer alone than have everyone suffering sympathetically around you. You’d take the pain on your own time, but when we were around, you’d stayed positive. It was less than three weeks ago that you had his first blood transfusion. It’s funny that I kept this conversation, not due to the importance of the situation, but for our hilarious inside jokes and pathetic attempts at punch lines. Through all of the fun, you still stated you were fine, and that transfusions were no biggie, just a bit of blood here and there. It was less than three days ago that I found out blood transfusions could have horrible effects on people. Adverse Reactions of Associated Blood Transfusions could cause fevers and chills that worsened until one grew accustomed to the new blood.
‘Damn Sean, I’d never do a transfusion thing…needles are mad terrifying!’
‘Needles aren’t the worst thing lol…’
‘Does it hurt?‘
‘Nahhh, I’m too manly to feel pain hahah’
‘So you’re going to be okay, right?’

It’s funny that after our final conversation, you passed away. Only ten hours after I had woken up had I found out. This was new to me, a lack of you, a lack of Sean. You had been my best friend for years, and my crush during our early development of friendship. I texted you once a day, hoping to receive a text back. I check my phone, despite its lack of vibrating notifications, from a Seanieboy-exclusive text. Instantaneously, I can almost tell what you would have replied.
‘hahaha it’s funny that you thought this dumbdisease could kill me. You should believe me more when I say I’ll be fine.’