Happiness; such a wonderful word, yet not many really know it's true meaning. For me, happiness had always been spending time with friends and family. Always, it had been the joy of healing other's pain and sorrow, and helping them see the light at the end of the tunnel. But, my aspect of happiness soon changed after the fact that I found my best friend. His name, what a wonderfully ironic one, was Faegan Alexander Ramos. If you were wondering how this unique name was ironic; Faegan is Celtic for 'Full of joy'. This boy had come to seem like the most upbeat person you could ever have the privilege of meeting, but in all reality, his depression soon ate him away from the inside out. Especially after everything that happened with his family. But, we'll get into all of that later.
Faegan - or Fae, as I came to call him - was about six foot tall and he had a stout, broad build. He stood out of a crowd not because of his size, but of his looks. His hair was a dark onyx, styled into a quiff. It suited his angular face very nicely. Fae also had one feature that seemed to make anyone go wild. That characteristic was his wild green eyes. They seemed to pierce right into the depth of your soul when he looked at you. Hell, if that doesn't seem like enough to see him clearly, here's this for a description - starting from the bottom of his feet.
Always wearing the same tan construction boots, he had a size twelve foot. Don't bother wondering how I know; when you've got a best friend, you come to know that person very intimately. His long, muscular legs were covered in the usual black denim jeans. Not any jeans with holes in them, mind you. He was very picky about having clean, spiffy clothes. I absolutely have to mention his trademark; a dark leather belt, shiny yet worn, wrapped around his waist at all times. The belt had been his grandfathers, with a bright silver grizzly head for the buckle. Fae treasured it with every ounce of fiber in his body. But, let us continue. There was usually some monotonous-colored tee tucked into his pants, and a leather jacket hung around his muscular, tanned shoulders. This boy had the audacity to believe he was ugly, too! God, if only he could see how his sharp jawline had girls swooning from half-way across the room. I was lucky enough to be close to him to show him this. He constantly had a stubbly, rap industry standard, type of facial hair. Faegan seemed to love rubbing it on my arm to give me an itchy, burning beard rash for some reason. Something about my reaction being hilarious, I don't know. Anyways, girls also fell for the way his hair looked. Buzzed close to his head around the sides, full on top, styled in a raven-colored quiff. What's not to like about it? He was a gorgeous man, that's for sure. Yet, he never liked to admit it. He was self-conscious and extremely modest. It suited him. No one likes a cocky guy, am I right? But, sure enough, the dude could flaunt it. He constantly worked without a shirt, and always in shorts. Fae had a problem with overheating. He had a tanned body, since he loved to go to the beach. A six pack, also - he went to the gym for three hours every day after school and work.
This guy.. I was so happy to be able to call this guy my best friend, even though as soon as we had gotten somewhere, he drifted from me. We fell for each other, and he lost himself. Yet, I loved him even as he went from the lovely person he once was, to the slowly deteriorating mess that he finished off to be. I always believed that I could save him from himself. Perhaps, in a way, I was right.