When I met my best friend, Zach, back in 1990, I was only 5 years old. Growing up, we did everything together, we were the kind of friends that one would see in movies, either of us would sacrifice everything we had for the other one. However, in 1995, when I was 10, my dad was transferred to Houston, TX, and our family had to move. My friend Zach and I still maintained our friendship for years to come, working every summer to save up enough money for a plane ticket to see each other a couple times a year, until we turned 19. His mom caught him using drugs like cocaine and heroin, and she sent him to rehab. It's still important to keep in mind the fact that because we were such close friends, each of our families were similar to the other's extended family. His mom tells me everything, and his little sister comes crying to me whenever she has problems, it's as if I'm a sibling in their family. Recently I found out that after being re-admitted to rehab several times, he kept turning back to drugs, and finally his family disowned him and severed all their ties with him, for fear that he would influence his younger brother and sister in negative ways. Anyways, fast forward to this year - 2006... I'm 21, and sometimes I wonder if he would have acted any differently had I not moved away. God, I LOVE this kid like a brother, back in the day, I would have easily laid down my life to save his, and I can't help but think that if I had stayed around, he would have ended up differently Sometimes I'm brought to tears thinking about the situation, and I try to remind myself that everyone leads their own lives, and what someone else does is ultimately out of my control. I just needed to vent, I just wanted to get this out and hear other people's opinions on the situation.