It’s Strange How Things Can Change Back

When I Was Done Reading The Poem, Everyone Was Quiet. A Very Sad Quiet. But The Amazing Thing Was That It Wasn’t A Bad Sad At All. It Was Just Something That Made Everyone Look Around At Each Other And Know That They Were There. Sam And Patrick Looked At Me. And I Looked At Them. And I Think They Knew. Not Anything Specific Really. They Just Knew. And I Think That’s All You Can Ever Ask From A Friend.

And Even If Somebody Else Has It Much Worse, That Doesn't Really Change The Fact That You Have What You Have. Good And Bad.

On That Piece Of White Paper, Sam Wrote, "write About Me Sometime." And I Typed Something Back To Her, Standing Right There In Her Bedroom. I Just Typed. "i Will.

There Are Other People Who Have It A Lot Worse

Maybe It’s Sad That These Are Now Memories. And Maybe It’s Not Sad.