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An Open Letter to The Friend I Lost too Soon


It’s been almost 4 years since your passing, yet I still think of you at least once a week. I know we were never the closest of friends, but I miss seeing your smiling face in the hallway, or our talks about boys and oversharing all the drama in our lives.

I still remember reading the text message from a mutual friend telling me the worst news I’d heard in my life. It seemed unreal then, and it still does today. As I’m prepping to go home for break, I’m faced with the thought of driving past your house and knowing I can’t stop to see you. I won’t be able to ask your mom about you when I see her around town, and I don’t even know what to say to your sister anymore. It still feels like a nightmare. Everyone seems to be okay, but I’m sure behind closed doors it’s a different story.

I’m so glad that our last conversation was a happy one. I’ll always cherish your bluntness and humor that helped me figure out my life. Hopefully you’re still gloating about taking credit for ‘setting up’ my relationship, and I’m so thankful for your help.

I can’t get past the idea that someone I knew from elementary school is no longer here. There’s been quite a few times I want to message you and ask your advice about classes, stress, and boys. You were always so much better at school than me, and you gave the best boy advice ever.

I hope you’d be proud of me now. I think you would be at least. The first few months after you were gone were the hardest. I bawled at our high school graduation, not from happiness, but because I knew of all the people there, you deserved to be the one to speak on behalf of our class. Instead there was a moment of silence when they called your name, followed by applause, and tears. You always seemed to have the future figured out, and your confidence is what inspired me to pursue my dreams and going to a school that I didn’t know anyone at. I had no more crutch, no more safety net.

I miss you terribly. Once in a while I’ll pull out my old yearbook and laugh about our old inside jokes, knowing eventually they’ll be lost to history and one day I’ll forget them. There will be a point where our ever-running joke about writing songs about being cold and our plans to travel to Mexico won’t make any sense to even me. I couldn’t ever forget you, or the impact you had on my life. I still haven’t gotten up the courage to go to the cemetary to visit you, but I’m planning to soon.

I think of you often, and I miss you always.

-An Old Friend

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