Justin,

I met you at the hospital. You were very sad and completely hopeless. I asked you when you did your blond streak in your dark curly hair to start a conversation. We were friends from then on. You told me about how you pierced your "gay ear" yourself and you were too scared to do the other one. You taught me how to play chess in the main room of the hospital. We told each other jokes and laughed at stupid celebrities in the magazines they gave us. I left the hospital a few days after I met you, but we still stayed in contact. I found out you went to my school and I was so happy. I didn't get to see you that much because I was a freshman and you were a sophomore, but we hung out and played chess before school. You always beat me at chess. I loved playing with you every day. One day, you didn't come to school. You were never sick. Later that night, my dad got an email from the school's principal. You had committed suicide. Its destroyed me. I don't know what made you do it. You had seemed so happy. I totally understand being sad, like you were in the hospital, but I never wanted it to go like this. The whole point of this letter was to let you know that I loved you so much. You will always be the fabulous Justin I met in the hospital who had the blond streak in your dark curly hair. I guess now that you're up in heaven you can be truly happy. Keep playing chess. I know you like that.

Love, 

Megan