Dear Sarah,

Hi. It’s James.

It’s been 6 months since it happened. I don’t know what to do with myself. My junior year is coming to a close and all I can think about is that it would have been your senior year coming to a close. You were so excited to leave and start a life or your own in the big wide world of the unknown. And know you can’t.

Everyday I walk past your room and I can still hear the sounds of you dancing while listening to your iPod and how your heels slammed into the wood and how your toes made the rubbing notices as you turned. I miss you so much. So much. They gave your room away and the girl in there covered up our etching with a giant pink and blue poster. They told me that I had to take care of your stuff. I had to go through it all. Your pictures, your clothes, your computer; everything. Your father said that he didn’t want anything. Nothing, and that’s when I packed it all up. I took Eugene to my room and took your boxes to my closet. I kept your comforter thought. It smells like you, but it’s starting to fade and smell like me instead of your sweet lavender scent.

Oh, Sarah. I miss you so much. Why did you have to go? I miss your beautiful smile and your sparkling eyes. I crave your warm touch and your soft lips. Everyday I think about you and your perfectness. I think about your hair and no matter how much you brush it out, it’ll always curl and act on it’s own. I think about legs and how toned they are even though you constantly said that you hated how fat they were. I think about your arms and how much they shed blood, but they wear still so long and elegant. I think about all the pictures that you hung above your bed frame. I think of all those; I think of the ones with you and your friends or the ones with you and I, I even think about all the ones with your mother and how much you love and miss her beyond belief. I think of all those times that you ran your dance routines without your pointe shoes or even your music. I think about the clutter on your desk and how you would make even more clutter when trying to find something. I think about the rainy days that you and I spent together, none of them were the same.

I remember my favorite rainy day. It was a Sunday and most of the other students when into the city but we stayed behind because you said that going into the city reminded of all the holidays you spent with your mother in the city before she died. We made lunch and dined on the best meal of all time; Monsters Inc. Mac & Cheese with teriyaki chicken that we stole from the cafeteria on campus. Then the rain went down to a drizzle and you said that this was the best weather of all kind. So we went. We walked and walked and you never stopped being beautiful. We walked across the felid that no one seemed to use and before we knew it, we got to our spot. Our spot at the edge of the river that was surrounded by trees and filled with waist-high grass and was spotted with your favorite flowers, lilacs. We laid there with a blanket under us in complete silence. Then it started to rain hard again. I remember that you laughed and laughed. Your laugh was beautiful. You sat up as the rain started to soak your beautiful blonde hair. Then we got up and ran towards the dorm. And you skipped and spun and into my arms you went. I remember your soft lips on mine and in that moment I knew that you were going to be mine and I was going to be yours.

That was only a few months before you died, Sarah. Do you remember that? Do you remember the sleek blades that slid across your skin? Do you remember the chill of the bathtub as you lay down and sunk your head into the water? Do you remember, Sarah Montgomery? I remember that. And I remember the scream of the little freshman girl that found your body. I remember running out of my room and pushing through the crowd that started to form. U remember seeing you, your beautiful lifeless body. I ran to you and I cried and I toke you in my arms and cried. And then they took you away. Your father ordered for you to be cremated but he never came and got you. So I took you and went to our spot in the forest and I buried your ashes right where you and I laid all those times and all those months ago.

What happened to us, you know? I don’t know who I am anymore or how I got here. I miss who I used to be. I want to have a home again, you know? And real friends. You know, the kind of friendships we used to believe in. I miss that and I miss you. I guess I just miss all of it.