Can we talk? I know this must be a bit awkward because you probably don't remember me well (or at all), but how are you doing? I hope you're not too lonely where you are. Is Justin doing okay too?
So, listen, I hope you don't mind me saying this, but I miss you. When I heard about what happened, I was shocked beyond belief. You must have been shocked, too. It was your sixth time there, and it was supposed to be the final celebration of summer before freshman year. It ended up being your final celebration altogether. You were only fourteen when that tree fell; if you were still here, you'd only be three months older than me.
It's a sobering thought, and an unfair one. We haven't had many chances to meet, but I still remember that one time I complimented your name during one of our lunch breaks. That was five years ago. It's crazy how time flies, isn't it? I only saw you that one time, and now you're gone.
You were just a kid. I was just a kid. And I'm apparently going to be an adult soon, but I still feel like a kid. Whenever I think about you, I'm constantly reminded of that naive sixth grade kid who talked to you once during lunch, that girl that neither you nor I will ever be able to meet again.
I can't claim to have been one of your close friends, or even a person that knew you well at all, but I know you didn't deserve what happened. It's not like I haven't heard about death before, but somehow, yours was different.
Ever since I became a writer, I've been clinging to certain truths that never change. I've written stories about heroes, villains. I've written poems about love, loss. I've written nonfiction, fiction. I've written more papers than I can count. But this? This is harder to write than all the times I've had writer's block, all the times I've stayed up at night to write a particularly difficult paper, it's harder to write than all the things I've written combined.
It's hard to admit that you won't read this, that you probably never will read this, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry I never took the chance to know you better. I'm sorry for all the times I didn't take full advantage of my life, that one thing you don't have now. And I'm sorry for being sorry.
It's silly, isn't it? Me being sorry for someone I barely knew up till now, me being sad for someone I've never truly known? If you were still here, I feel like you would have laughed at the thought, the way you used to laugh with all your friends during lunch.
I'm not sure what you're busy with now, but I hope you take the time to visit your family often. They miss you a lot. And I hope I can sincerely say that I'll remember you. Even as time goes on, I don't want to forget what was and could have been.
Thanks for listening.
A Grown-up Child