Her.

I loved her so much.

And I still do.

These thoughts raced through my head as I stared at it, the opened casket. If only I could see her one last time alive. See the sparkle in her eye I came to love so much. That was the first thing I noticed. Her vibrant eyes and when I looked at them, they reminded me of a deep blue river. And now her eyes are a dull blue, no excitement, no emotion, and most of all, no life in them.

In a short twelve weeks, she went from this nerd who was going to be valediction to this makeup-covered corpse that laid before me. I thought about this as the preacher talked. Twelve weeks ago, I was the one who was immensely depressed and wanted to kill myself. Who was she then? She was a little fireball of happiness that bursted into my life.

I saw her in my first class, which was my worst subject of all, math. She, of course, aced the class. I flunked the class. Within the first week, I knew she was going to be my kryptonite. Every time Mr. Dorshley would teach, she would be so focused on his lesson, as if she were to look away and she might lose the key to success and life itself.

I was going to tell her how I felt because today was perfect, and now it is far from that. She is gone. She took her own life and practically mine. She was my life. In the short twelve weeks, she changed my whole perspective. I walked into school, waiting for it to begin. No longer waiting for it to end. I walked home, smiling as the drizzle splashed atop of my head. No longer waiting for the rain to stop. I looked at obstacles and achievements, not failures.

She had forever changed my life, but I couldn’t do the same.