My eyes fell on the two women in their patterned skirts walking across the commons. They were wearing those same skirts five months ago, during the second day of finals. That Tuesday is burned into my memory. It was probably the hardest day of my life, coping with his death and society. That day was hard on all of us, but it renewed the dying embers of my faith in humanity.

My day kept getting worse and worse. First class of the day the news of his death was all over school. To those who didn’t know him, it was just an event that didn’t affect them. But I overheard two boys talking in my first class, and I wasn’t prepared to handle it.

“Some fag killed himself.”

“Wow, what a fucked up retard!”

I had already spent the morning with my friends, sitting in a quiet circle, letting the tears run down our cheeks. We were all in shock. We were all hurting. Those boys’ comments pushed me over the edge. They didn’t know him! They had no right to call him names, no right to disrespect his memory. I bit my lip until the blood rolled down me chin and I didn’t feel pain.

I didn’t go to my next class. Stev found me in the corner where he had hung out, staring into space. He took me to the counseling office and let me cry out my hurt and disbelief. I know he felt worse then I did, but he didn’t cry. He just talked to me, gave me something to hold onto so I didn’t slip away into the black hole of my depression.

There were two people that day who saw how badly I needed a hug. Dan saw it the moment I walked into school, dazed and fighting back tears, even at 7am. He opened his arms to me and held me and told me it was ok to cry. He hugged me until I felt protected from the raw pain and ready to face the harsh, uncaring stares of high school.

Schuette saw it when he noticed the unshed tears in my eyes when I looked around at the group. They were all living parts of him. They were all feeling the same shock as I was, but none of us knew how to comfort each other.

His choice went too deep. His words of advice all those months ago when I first met him rang in my head. “There will always be something worth living for, Amy. Don’t ever forget that.”

I won’t forget, my friend. I just wish that you hadn’t.