At first I hoped no one would ever see it. The human side of me had taken over in that moment, and that was at odds with my career. It felt terrible to wrestle with ethical and professional questions when all I wanted to do was be with my friend.

It has taken these two and a half years for me to process Drew’s death.

I think most journalists would relate to my feeling that it’s selfish to overlay some segment of my story on a moment in time reserved for other people to see Drew’s. But as journalists, our lives are deeply intertwined with the lives of others, and that’s worth acknowledging so the non-journalist side of us can contend with the experiences we have while we’re working.

Regina knew throughout Drew’s illness that she was bound to fall apart when he died. In the years since, she has struggled to keep the promises she made to him.

She promised him she wouldn’t relapse, but she did. She also promised she wouldn’t try to kill herself, but she did. After several alcohol-related arrests, she was incarcerated for six months and then released. A few months ago, she was arrested again for driving with a suspended license.

Last month, she called me from the jail and sounded better than she had in years. She said a part of her had wanted to be incarcerated because it gives her a sense of purpose — to help the young women at the jail try to turn their lives around. It also forces her to stay sober.

When her boyfriend, Sam, visited her recently she asked him to wear the locket with Drew’s picture in it that she normally wears. “All the girls wanted to see what he looked like,” Sam said.

On the phone, Regina uttered a phrase she must have said to me a hundred times over the past five years: “It’s just like Andrew always told me — you have to look for something positive out of everything negative.”