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today I can't belive that Eric died... it feels like a bad dream, but it's not. I'm frightend because mum wants to give a gift to his family including a card, but I know that if I go over there I'm gunna start crying and it's gunna become very real to me again and I hate having others see me cry. Today I've hardly cryed because I keep thinking that I will see him next easter then thanksgiving after that, just like we've always seen eachother, and I start to wish that the last time I had seen him I had hung out with him and talked longer even though I wasn't feeling that well at the time. But then I think that I will see him again.

the story of the first time we met has been a broken record in my head today.

"What's you name?" I asked from the top of my jungl gym in the back yard to the round blond boy on the other side of the fence.
"Eric," what's yours?
"Amy."
"That's my mom's name"
"Yeah and your's is llike prince Eric from little mermade!"
"I'm 6 years old, how old are you?"
"I'm 7!" I declaired. "You want to come over and play?"
"I can't... I have to stay here."
"Oh... could I come over?"
"I'll have to ask my parents." He said
"me too, I'll ask mine, you ask yours"

People shouldn't die when they're 18.