Come back, please.

Monday, January 21st, 2013

R*****, I still can’t believe you’re gone. It doesn’t feel real. Even after I read the article in the paper today, I still can’t come to sense with the fact that you’re not alive anymore. Everyone says it will hit me tomorrow in school. They’re probably right. But what if it doesn’t? What if I remain numb? Then again, this whole situation has been centered around what ifs. I just wish someone could have helped you. You had the brightest future in front of you and now I can’t even come to sense with the fact that you hung yourself. Every time I try to picture you alive, well, and happy, I picture you hanging in your bathroom instead. It’s awful and I can’t get it out of me head. R*****, I know you’re sorry, I know you are, I am too, I just wish I could have told you. I wish you could have told me. I wish I would have told you how special you are before you left. Though, I know if we would have made up, we would never talk like we used to. I just wish I could hear you tell me that I’m beautiful, or watch your face awkwardly light up as I pass your locker in the morning yelling “Perkisaur!”, just to make you smile. That luminous, absolutely beautiful smile. You were so haunted. I still can’t believe you’re gone. Come back, please. We need you. 

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