Two first names.

You had two first names. Your hair was bold and a different colour often and facebook showed me which it was at various times. You always smiled, so large a smile, every time. Teeth and cheeks. You partied hard and you had many friends. So much love around you.

I did not know you. I did not know you when you lived and I did not know you when you died. I read about your death from mutual friends’ facebook posts and I actually gasped when I found out. You were the epitome of life and then you were gone. I clicked on your profile and after all the beautiful goodbyes from your friends – fuck, there were so many – I could see posts from you about your journey, embracing the possibility of death and then a link to a blog where you updated how you were feeling.

I read your blog, even though I did not know you, and I sobbed for hours reading your words, just as I sob writing these. It seemed so unfair for someone so beautifully vivacious to be taken so young. The world is not a fair place.

But what a world – that people like you existed. What a world, that people like you exist at all. What a world that is so unfair and unjust and cruel and sad, but still people like you exist in the face of that. What a world.

You were so brave and honest and your courage brought me to tears everytime I thought about you. You were so brave. I wish I had known you.

 

 

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