Dean

I've thought about you every day since you left. I thought you should know that. For a while I felt you with me, but as time passed, so did you. You weren't the first, but you were the hardest to let go of. I thought you should know that too.

Remember when you used to wear the same jeans for weeks in a row? You were too funny, too cute, too cool to make fun of, though. No one had guessed your parents were loaded and you were just a kid trying to be. Just be.

The first time I saw you, I thought you were nothing special. I'll always be sorry about that. You were playing the bass and you had that crazy hair, and I was just a girl who didn't have time for a bass player with crazy hair. To think about you now, years later, I wonder how I had time for anything but you with that bass and that crazy hair. If I had the chance, I'd do it differently from the start.

My friend talked about you once, I don't know if I ever told you. She crushed on you and it made me jealous. The guy with the cool bass and the crazy hair was mine. All mine.

When you invited a bunch of us to your house for a sleepover and we found out you were rich, your popularity soared even though you hated it. I loved you for that too. If I never told you, I'm telling you now. You were so real, so alive.

One time you said you hated drugs and I believed you. "Drugs kill," you said. I nodded because drugs sucked and you knew it and I didn't have to worry. But I was just a girl who didn't know anything about life.

It was in English class when you first told me your secret. We were surrounded by your friends, and I felt so uncool because I was scared for you. You said it started with Adderall, you even skipped a year. Then you moved on to molly and more. I wanted to tell you it was stupid. It was all stupid. You had it all. You were smart and funny and cool and cute—and I should've known. But I didn't.

If there's anything I regret with all of my being, is not saying anything. I thought I would have time, but life is funny that way.

I was mad at your parents for taking you off life support because they had money and connections and good doctors and all you needed was time. But maybe not, we'll never know.

All you left behind are that building in our old high school with your name on it and that sweater your mom gave me at your funeral, the one that still smells like you.

I think of you every day, Dean, and wonder if you would still love me like I still love you.