I never knew who he was until one night. Then afterwards he was all I thought about.
I tried to be his friend. Someone he enjoyed to be with. Then he went off to college. I still had one more year left of high school. And yet I had hope. My heart fluttered whenever I saw him at church. That is, whenever he could make it. Then I hardly saw him for 3 months. I knew I needed to move on. Move on from what? The fantasy in my head. Our perfect, spunky, flawless relationship. That’s when reality sunk in. I gave up. Started over. Then I began college in the fall. He was transferring to the same college I was attending. My heart found hope again. Turns out I never stopped wishing. I tried to push the feelings away. Ignore the flood of thoughts. Then everything became too much. I couldn't’t hold this in much longer. Realization hit home. He has stolen my heart.

One night later I get a phone call from my parents. The church sent notice of his funeral next week. This couldn’t be happening. He did not die in that car crash. The other driver wasn’t drunk and I didn’t love him. Lies. They were all lies. Josh died in that crash. I had to say good bye before I got chance to even say hello. No one knew how much the loss of his precious life affected me. I never got the chance to tell anybody. Especially Josh.

I went to the funeral with my dad and I listened to people tell funny stories from his life. I saw pictures of the life he lived. I heard people weeping for their son and friend back. No one heard my tears. No one saw my pictures of him. No one heard my story. In the end, I stood, laid a single rose on his casket and let one tear fall before him. I walked away with a final glance at the boy I smiled for. The boy who gave me a reason to get out of bed in the morning. I turned back to my father and whispered “I know it sounds crazy, but I loved that boy.”