Cat and I were close. I had been in a call with them a day before they passed. They were so happy to be out of the hospital, but so unhappy to be a burden on their family. Every day they told me more and more about how the hospital mishandled their treatment, and they were glad to no longer deal with it.

They fell apart near the end, could barely breathe or speak. But they were still concerned with matters of great importance, moreso than the average person worries themselves with. Always an idealist, always a dreamer, to their very last moment they were sincere with their beliefs.

I loved them like family, and wept when their sister called me to tell me the news. 

At least to the last moment they were themselves, and never faltered in that. Perhaps that is best, and what we should all strive for.

Never will you be forgotten, Cat. Rest in peace, I'll see you when my luck runs out.