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Tuesday, January 02, 2007

I can't believe she's dead

Cassie. My cousin. My friend. My griping post. My shoulder to cry on. And she's dead. Why do terrible things happen to beautiful people? Sure, she did some horrible things. But why did God have to choose her to take home that night? Why did God have to take my best friend by way of getting hit by an out-of-control truck? You always hear about these kinds of things happening to other people, and think that nothing like that will ever happen to you. And then they do. And that Forever that you said you had, the Forever that gave you time to see each other once again, that Forever never comes. And there's nothing you can do. No turning back to glance that person. Only old pictures of what they once were, and the one you want is lost. I loved her so much! We used to climb trees together when we were five. I would whisper secrets in the deformed ear, and she could not hear me. So I'd go to the other side. When I spent the night at her house, we would spend the majority of the time running from her St. Bernards. We would go swimming in the pond that her dad dug, and sleep outside, only to wake up to cold feet due to dew in the morning. We would look for falling stars and talk about boys and life. In the mornings at my house, we would put on that old Dixie Chicks CD and yell at the top of our lungs the lyrics to "Good Bye, Earl" if we were the only ones home, doing dishes. The last time I saw her, we got in trouble for staying out until one in the morning. She got her car taken away, and her cell phone two. Her sentence didn't last as long as mine did, so I got mad at her. But things were repaired and we were friends, talking online when we could. The last time I had a chance to see her, I didn't take it. She talked to me online, and said she wanted to see me. I told her that she needed to talk to Shane, because I knew he would say no. She never called, and I never got to see her that last time. On the day I came home, I talked to her online while I was doing college stuff. She asked me questions, and I gave short answers because I was busy. I didn't talk to her that much. And now I never get to talk to her again. I keep wishing someone would call and tell me it was a joke. But nobody will, because it's not. The funeral is on Friday, and the viewing a day before. God, I love her so much. She was only sixteen.

1 comments:

Jeff C. said...

Sorry for your loss. Hang in there.