It's the four year anniversary of your death. I miss you so much, I
can't even describe it.
I never got to meet you but you saved my life,
and I never got to thank you.
We have the same birthday. I am now
exactly the same age you were when you died.
You once told me that the iron in our blood can only
be found in dying stars, that we're being
kept alive by stardust. That really helped me. I'm getting a star
tattoo on my wrist for our birthday.
I wrote a "letter" to you for
English and my teacher said it was one of the best things
she had ever read. It was basically a watered-down version of this,
but God, I just have so much to say that I couldn't let a teacher read.
I don't know if I can say how much you meant to me, how much
you still mean to me. I'll never get to hug you, or thank you for pulling
me out of that dark place I was in during 9th grade, or say goodbye,
and nobody will ever know who they guy that hit you was,
or what he was thinking when he just drove away after hitting another person
with his car, or what your last words were.
There are so many thibgs I wish we could have
done, and now none of that is possible. I'm really sorry it took me
this long to try to talk to you, but I honestly haven't been able to
even think about it.
I thought of the idea of writing to you a few
days ago, and to be honest, I'm not sue if this will work but even if
it doesn't, I'll be able to get all my feelings out, and if it does
work, then you'll know how much you impacted my life.
I love you and I miss you and I hope you're happy wherever you are,