I always thought you'd live longer than I would.
I always believed you'd succeed in all you did.
You always did.
We all pretty much knew you would.

I really enjoyed your presence the first time we met,
about six years ago.
I heard one day, many years back, that you were ill,
but it was mono or something.

I grew internally jealous of your perfection and lack of greed.
So about a year ago, when I began to give up, we began to grow close.

Of course you laughed at the brainless things I did.
But, we still had a connection, though you were hiding something.

You were absent as usual, but nobody cared, you were always sick.
They wrote letters, while I just told them to add in theirs that I cared.
God knows I did.

I didn't suspect a thing, you always came back.
Months went by, you were getting better, they say you didn't suffer one bit,
and were to be home soon.

I didn't care, I was wrapped up in myself, and life was just too tough.
If I only knew what you were going through.
But, one day I heard as a rumor that you were gone.

I didn't panic; I sorta laughed it off.
Then, walking down the halls, I was handed a typed notice for the teacher.
You were really gone!
I didn't know what to do.

I began to yell and kick things.
Then I began to cry.
Then I thought how I was supposed to go and not you.

I thought about what you were supposed to achieve.
I thought about how you could be taken from this world when we needed you.

I knew that I couldn't amount to anything that you were or could be.
I was angry with God for taking you away and keeping me here.

I wished I could've written to you along with the others.
I went to your wake and I saw your things.
I saw your awards.
I saw the scrunchie I used to pull out of your hair.

I saw the things we built in Tech Ed together.
Then, I saw a picture of you in your "couch" shirt, remember that?
We had so much fun.
How could you have suffered?

I went on that web site that your parents put together.
I read your work.
I read how everybody felt about your leaving.

I then told everybody a little bit about how I felt.
I thought that I should be great and try to achieve what you could've.

But, now I think about it and I know that I shouldn't try to achieve
what you should've.
But, I should try to achieve what I'm supposed to.

I thank you for your inspiration.
I want you to know that I did care and that I miss you.

© 1999 by Christina E. Robson. All rights reserved. © 1999 by Debra Jean and Victor Montemurro. All rights reserved.

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