I don’t even know where to begin… reading this shattered something inside me.
This isn’t just “important” or “serious”—this is devastating. It’s the kind of pain that language barely knows how to carry. We often throw around words like “loss” and “grief” like they’re just part of life—but when it hits close, when it hits someone we care about, everything stops. Time slows. And you suddenly realize how fragile, how raw, how achingly real this world can be.
To LuigiCo… I don’t even know if words are enough right now. I wish I could take away the pain, or somehow fill the emptiness that’s left behind. I can’t begin to imagine the weight you’re carrying on your chest. That feeling when it gets hard to breathe. When every memory cuts just a little deeper. When silence becomes louder than any noise. We feel that with you. Not in the same way, but beside you—as brothers, sisters, and human beings who see you. You are not alone.
Your friend—whoever they were—meant the world to you. That much is clear. And while we may never know the full story behind what happened, we do know this: they were deeply loved. And their life mattered. And the space they filled in your heart is one that no one can replace, ever.
You staying by their side, walking with them on their journey, being there even in silence—that is the kind of love that most people never even get to feel. That kind of bond doesn't end in death. It echoes. It ripples. It stays in every corner of who we are.
I also want to thank everyone involved in this message—for having the courage to share something so personal, and for giving us a space to mourn together. Because that's what we need right now. Not games. Not distractions. But unity. Compassion. Stillness. We live in such a noisy world that we sometimes forget to stop and just feel. And right now, I feel heartbreak. I feel sorrow. But I also feel immense respect and love for LuigiCo and for the friend whose life we now honor in memory.
Take all the time you need, LuigiCo. No one is rushing you. No one is expecting you to be “okay” when your soul is barely holding itself together. Grief isn’t a race. It’s not linear. It’s messy. It’s full of ups and downs and waves that come out of nowhere. You owe no one an explanation. You owe no one your strength. You just owe yourself the space to exist, however broken or numb or angry or exhausted you feel.
And when you’re ready—really ready—we’ll be here. Not waiting impatiently, but keeping the light on. We’ll hold this space for you as long as it takes.
To everyone else reading this: please, reach out to your loved ones. Tell them what they mean to you. Life is cruelly unpredictable, and none of us are promised tomorrow. Let’s honor LuigiCo’s close friend by living with a little more love, a little more presence, and a lot more empathy.
Rest in peace to a soul gone far too soon. You are not forgotten.
And to LuigiCo—your grief is valid, your pain is sacred, and your healing, though slow, will come. One breath at a time.
We love you, bro. And we’re here. Always.
May LuigiCo's close friend go where it belongs to,
Heaven. 🖤