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Joey

His name was Joey, I met him at the beginning of my sophomore year of high school. We shared English and World History together, and I noticed him noticing me. Every time I looked at him he was looking at me. He was cute in that sloppy clothes, not-trying-too-hard skater boy look circa 1992. It was early September and he often wore shorts and I had little daydreams about reaching over and running my hand over his leg. He was adorable.

I wondered if he was ever going to talk to me. Finally, as boys do in high school, he passed me a note. He had very small and perfect handwriting. It looked almost typed, the letters were that perfectly written. The exact wording of the note escapes me now, but I know that what it said was unlike anything a boy had ever written me. It was a little poem describing my eyes, my smile, and how much he wanted to know me. In that moment I fell in love. I fell in love the way you do when you are 16, that is.

We were inseparable for awhile. The letters he would write me filled me with a longing that at 16 I didn't fully understand. I floated around on a little cloud, never had I felt so special, so beautiful. If he thought I was then maybe he was right! I adored him.

The exact reason escapes me, but he broke-up with me. I was shattered. He began to change in small ways, and I noticed as we had classes together and I lived for the time that we would be in the same room together. He began to hang out with a different crowd, and he looked like he wasn't taking care of himself, wearing the same clothes to school and often not showing for class. I couldn't understand what was happening.

I held a torch for him all through that school year. We had some mutual friends and often hung out on the weekends in the same group. He started dating someone else and I privately despised her. I never gave up hope that he would remember whatever it was he saw in me and want me back. I tried to act nonchalauntly in front of our crowd but inside I was as in love as any 16 year old girl ever was.

The summer of our 10th grade year he was found dead in his bedroom at his father's house. He took some pills and left a note. He was found by one of our friends who came to his house and didn't understand why he wouldn't answer the door. He peeked through his bedroom window and saw him there, and called the police knowing something was very wrong.

His death was a tremendous shock to me. It was incredibly hard for me to deal with at that age, especially considering the deep feelings I had for him. I was devastated.

Mostly at his funeral all I could think about was how much he would hate how he was dressed, in a three piece suit with shiny black shoes, and so much makeup plastered on to cover his acne that he looked like a doll. It was everything that he was not.

Oh, his mother. His poor, poor mother. Every time I ever went to visit his grave his mother was there. Once, her face so sun burnt that she must have been sitting there for hours. Now a mother myself, my heart aches for this woman, losing her beloved and only son.

I haven't been back to Charleston for 13 years, but if I ever do I know I'll go visit him. I still think of him, and now and again he'll pop up in my dream, always wearing those purple baggy skater pants. I've dreamed of him a number of times over the last 15 years, and I always come away from the dream feeling like I had a visit with him.

I don't believe he wanted to die. I really don't. I think it was a cry for help but I don't think things played out how he thought they would at the time. I can't imagine he really intended to end his life. However, it doesn't matter much. He is gone all the same.

He was a wonderful person. So smart, so deep for a boy of 16. I think of him, and I wonder who he would be today. Now and again I'll pull out my box where folded inside are every letter he ever wrote me. To this day, the only love letters I've ever received. When I read them today, they still touch me.

His mother once told me that she didn't want him to be forgotten. She had a fear that he would be. Colleen, wherever you are today, know that he has not been forgotten. He never will be.

 

autimom autimom 31-35, F 18 Responses Jan 15, 2009

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This story touched me a lot.. I am sure he is looking down on you and protecting you from above :)

I have to say no, I do not. I'm an atheist and don't believe in an afterlife, period.

You have to believe in an after life or life somewhere else other than this to go with this question to you. There is a lot of reasearch by the Guggenheims (and others) on After Death Communications (ADC) (just google ADC) You wrote "I haven't been back to Charleston for 13 years, but if I ever do I know I'll go visit him. I still think of him, and now and again he'll pop up in my dream, always wearing those purple baggy skater pants. I've dreamed of him a number of times over the last 15 years, and I always come away from the dream feeling like I had a visit with him." Do you think that (if ADC exists) you are really meeting him in your dream state?

Thank you, Q.<br />
<br />
As a mother myself now, when I think of him today I think of his mother. I wonder how she survived the loss of her beloved and only child, If she still mourns today.

Like everything in life, time is the great healer. This happened 20 years ago. I still think of my friend from time to time, but it isn't with the same pain. Mostly I wonder what sort of person he would have become as an adult, and all of the things one experiences as they grow up and how he missed out.

This is so sad. How long did it take you to get better? I dont feelike yu ever did get better. And that scares me because i want to get better..

this is so sad. how long did it take you to kind of get better? i feelike you still arent better and that scared me because i want t get better

PLEASE READ LORI'S STORY AND PASS IT ON TO EVERYONE YOU KNOW.<br />
<br />
MAYBE CLOSURE THEY CAN HAVE AS WELL.<br />
www.Drugawareness.org/recentcases/suspicious-suicide-of-sister<br />
<br />
FINALLY...SOLVED..MONTHS AGO. YOU ARE KIDDING ME!<br />
WHEN YOU HEAR THE COMMERCIALS TODAY..THAT SAY..MAY CAUSE SUICIDAL IDEATION IN SOME PEOPLE. CALL YOUR DOCTOR.<br />
WELL IN 1981...THERE WERE NO WARNINGS. WE DID CALL THE DOCTOR..AND READ MY STORY! OUTRAGED

Thank you for reading about him. Its good to remember his life.

That is a really sad story. What a waste of a good life. :( I'm very sorry you lost your friend.

Thank you, Sara. I had not talked about him in so long, it was good for me to write this. I still think of him, and his mother.

Oh, auti, I missed this when you posted it. I have tears in my eyes for you, for his mother and for him. I would just put my arms around you and hold you if you were here. He is never really gone as long as you and other remember him. Thank you for sharing this. It is truly very moving.

Thank you, D10. 16 is so young to feel like you have nothing to live for. A terrible waste.

Thank you so much, SK.

That was beautifully written and very touching. It's a great example of what makes EP so worthwhile sometimes. Thank you.

It is a sad thing. I still think of him, think of his mom. Lucky for me it has so far been my only close up encounter with death.

This put such a deep ache in my heart for him, for his mother, and for you. The pain of this sort of loss is almost unbearable. Honestly, I don't even know what to say because the words just don't exist.

Beautiful in its poignant sadness. It's doesn't happen often, but sometimes a story on here can reach inside and touch you. <br />
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Thank you