Loved and Lost (Expressive Writing)

My mother tells me the news as if I didn’t even know this boy.
“Your aunt called. Ryan was killed by a drunk driver last night.” My mother’s words were careless. She had no idea that I was still really close with Ryan, even though we didn’t work out as more than friends. I can’t even react. My hands try to cover up my cry, but it seems to slip through my fingers. I fall to the ground, destroyed.

I met Ryan when I was 16. I had never had a boyfriend, let alone meet a boy that even came close to admiring me. But one weekend, I spent the night at my cousin’s house and happened to meet a beautiful boy named Ryan. This boy was flawless. He had a small build and almost looked delicate. His pale skin meshed well with his dimples and flowed so well with his smile. When his eyes met mine, I felt as if I were glowing.

When I headed back home the next day, my phone rang a glorious text message song. It was Ryan asking if I remembered him from the night before. This song would bring me joy for the next few months. We talked about anything and everything, everyday. Our personalities seemed to mesh so well and he was the first and only boy to tell me I was beautiful, inside and out. I told him everything. I fell so hard for a boy that I had only met in the flesh once and I didn’t even care.

Of course, our teenage dream came to reality and we decided that the distance was too much and friendship was a better thing to strive for. Usually this is where the couple breaks off and moves on, but it didn’t work that way for us. We continued to text and call each other, but our talks just did not have the same motivation as before.

I called Ryan whenever I needed him. I called to tell him news of love, sorrow, or just to tell him the new Devil Wears Prada CD was totally kick-ass. I didn’t even realize that Ryan was someone who was always there for me, no matter what. When no one else cared or had time for me, Ryan did.

Some days, I stare at his phone number and just cry. I miss our conversations. I miss our laughs. I miss his encouraging talks to keep going in life because it’s worth the risk of heartache. Without him, I would not have ever learned that it’s okay to love others around you and allowing them to love you is dangerous, but worth the adventure.

The hardest part of Ryan’s death was that life just keeps going. I think about him everyday and I always wonder what he would be up too now. I hate that no one talks about him and I hate that everyone acts like he was never apart of my life just because we only met just one lovely time in person. What about the hundreds of meaning-full text messages, or the hour-long conversations about the little things that meant the world to me? Did those mean absolutely nothing?

I don’t care what they say. I loved Ryan and still do. Not one day will pass without him crossing my thoughts. Even though time continues to drag me forward, my feelings for him will never fade and my heart will always know he is missing.