For my friend Raleigh, who just told me earlier today that he's moving away.

…

You were silent. You always were. Sometimes you'd ask what the homework was, or what I had gotten on so-and-so problem, but you were always quiet. And I was shy, so it was okay.

I never really saw you outside of our few classes together, but whenever we passed in the halls, you'd quietly say hello- or, at the very least, you'd smile.

You were always serious. You thought seriously, worked seriously, and even laughed- those precious few times you did in my presence, at least- you even laughed seriously. You weren't like most other boys, cursing and making crude, derogatory remarks. I don't think I've ever heard you do either.

You're different. You're not like other kids. You don't buy into the whole popular scene, even though you're the hero of the varsity football team for the third year in a row. You could have been next year, too. The one football game I went to, you played and got hurt. All I remember is your name on the loudspeaker as the ref announced the substitution.

I always considered you to be my friend. It didn't matter that I'd never talked to you outside of class, or that we'd only had a handful of quiet conversations. Whatever you said, you meant it, and you always could make me laugh without even trying.

Now you're moving away. Not far away, just to another part of the city, but at least half an hour away. It hurts to know you're leaving, but I don't really know what to say to you. I doubt I'll ever see you again.

It hurts.

I don't know how to say it. I've always been shy, but it's just so hard to talk around you. I don't know how to think or talk anymore…

I don't know how to say this to you, so I guess I won't. Odds are, you won't be at school on Monday.

And that hurts. It really hurts.