You transcended time. Your beauty and grace bought you fame and fortune and your wisdom bought my respect and admiration.
You died alone that day, and I always have to ask . . . What were you thinking? I have to believe that maybe, just maybe, things would have been different, could have been different. If only one person could have felt your pain . . could have let you know it didn’t have to mean the end. Maybe that one person could have been the difference between losing yourself to the drugs and finding your way out.
I wear a t-shirt with your funny, naughty smile. It’s a smile that moves the sun into the rainiest of days. A smile that proves God knew what he was doing when he made you.
My only wish is that you would have known that too.