Well, this is it. Tomorrow afternoon I will walk, unsteadily, to receive that diploma. And I will look in the crowd, and try to picture you. Your Johnny Cash hair reflecting off of the linoleum lights, your diamond eyes sparkling and your smile gazing dead into my eyes.
This is not how I wanted it to be.
I did not want to have to run away from the high school 7 months early because of those kids’ immature words and horrendous actions. I did not want to get thrown out into the world before I even turned 18. But I did, and I ran straight to Boston. It was where you ran to the second your diploma touched your fingertips. Only, you never made it out.
The second I heard about you, about the noose and what you did, one of the first things that rushed through my head was that you would never see me graduate. I was a sophomore at the time. I had no idea that in the next two years I’d be sexually, verbally, emotionally, and physically abused all on the school campus. And now I can’t imagine anything greater than seeing you there. Would you be proud of me for surviving, or would you be disappointed that I ran away? I just want to feel you here, C, I want to know that you’re next to me.
I wouldn’t be the person I am today if it weren’t for you. And the thing is, I hardly knew you compared to others. Our facebook messages were scarce, we’d talk maybe once or twice a week. But every time your eyes flickered in my direction, my heart lit up. Your approval, your decisions, your criticism-it all mattered to me more than anyone else in the world.
For whatever reason, C, I wanted to make you proud. And I knew I could do that by following the advice you always gave me and to keep my head up. To never make the same mistakes that you did. Well, I made it through high school without fighting back. And I know, I KNOW you would be proud of that. I just wish you were here to see.
You’re in my heart still, C, and you always will be. I will never let go.