You know the saying it takes more muscles to frown then it does to smile? Well, I think it takes more muscles to cry then it does to laugh.

It was the year of 2011, right at the beginning of my sophomore year, excitement just ringing throughout my life! FINALLY MY LIFE IS MOVING UP! There’s nothing better then knowing you have your whole life ahead of you. That is, unless the unchangeable happens. DEATH.

Of course I had friends who would move, but I always kept in touch with them. My friend Adrianna had moved to Louisville my sophomore; her junior year. I met her when I was a freshman and she was super funny and never judged people the way most of us would. She had a son name Ayden. Yes he was her pride and joy, and she always made sure everyone knew that just because she had a baby she was going somewhere in life.

“I’m going to be a lawyer, and Ayden will never have to worry about a thing, his life will be better.”

Her optimism always brought smiles of joy on peoples faces. She was a foster child but she never let that faze her. She talked as if her life was the best thing ever. That’s what I loved so much about her; she was so fun to be around even on bad days. Of course by the end of the year it was time to say our goodbyes and Adrianna had told me she’d be moving. Definitely we’d be keeping in touch over the summer, especially with facebook and our phones.

By the time the next year had rolled around we talked less but still kept up to date with one another. It was probably 2-3 months into my sophomore year. It was a night of that year that I can picture more vividly then any other. It was the night that Adrianna died.

I was on facebook just chilling in my room and my parents in the living room watching the news. Scrolling through the latest news feed I start to see all of these R.I.P Adrianna statuses. Bewildered and not knowing what they were talking about I go to her page. “R.I.P Adrianna you will be truly missed” read the top status. Streams of tears fall away from the filters of my eyes. This can’t be happening, not MY Adrianna. I go into the living room watching the television blankly looks of concern on my parent’s faces. Not noticing how much I’m crying now I read:
16 Year old Girl Adrianna Hit crossing The Street

A silent no runs across my lips as I turn and walk back into my room. Still in shock still not believing what I had seen or heard, it’s all lies. The next day – a miserable day- I could see the hurt on the faces that knew her, I could hear the talk about her and then I knew. My friend was gone forever. I couldn’t take the pain, I blocked the talk out with my mp3 player but it didn’t help. The song My Heart will go on by Celine Dion played aloud on repeat in my ears making it even worse then the talk itself. I needed to breathe, heart aching I walk with my friend slowly from lunch into the bathroom. I go straight to the last stall still trying to surrender the lock on my breathing. I sat down in the corner of the big stall. I broke down and cried.

She was 16 I was 15, what was the big difference? Her dead and me alive that’s what. To this day I still cry because it’s sad to know that she died at such a young age. But I also laugh because of the good memories she left me. The day after her death, I think to myself that if I hadn’t gone to the counselor and him telling me to remember the good laugh about the friendship we had and to know that she’s in a better place I think I would’ve had an anxiety/heart attack.

Laughter, that’s what kept me strong that day. It was from then on that I knew that even on the bad days I would remember to laugh, because it takes more muscles to cry then it does to laugh. My laughter, your laughter, all laughter can cure a broken heart.