Sixth.

Marco Butler.
God, where do I begin? It feels like you were just here. How is that fair? I can't sleep, I can't think, and I'm absolutely terrified of being left alone for more than five minutes for fear that all of my grief will suffocate me until there's nothing left.
We weren't even close. Probably said a few sentences to each other in all the time I had known you, and yet I feel that with your passing my whole world has imploded. You were smiling and talking and thinking and breathing and walking and blinking and loving every second of the last eighteen years, and I took that for granted. I will never forgive myself for not knowing you. You were part of my community. Part of my student body. You were part of my world and now you've been so cruelly snatched away before I really had the chance to see you. Everything was already in pieces for me for so many reasons and now .. you're gone. And I can't stop thinking about it, I can't stop crying and I can't stop hurting.
I'm a mess, Marco. A complete disaster. I so thought I was stronger than this. It seemed like I could get through anything. I've always been able to separate my hurt from what's important, and I've always been able to move on, let go, move foreward and in the healthiest way.
But this is too much.
My heart isn't even broken anymore. It's been ripped out, thrown into a cage, drowned and then hung up in a frame on my front door so the world can see how battered I've become. How battered I've LET myself become. And the worst part is people ring the doorbell, come and go as they please and they can't see it. Or choose not to. I know everyone's hurting, and I don't want to take away from anyone's healing process, but I can hardly bare it anymore.
My worst fear for as long as I can remember has been the feeling of being alone. It sounds cliche, but it's the truth. The one thing above all others that I simply cannot handle. It's a well kept secret. I'm a secret within myself. I'm supportive, I do everything I can to appear happy, and I encourage everyone to be brave. But it's not real. None of it's real. And my fear has somewhat manifested into something more like a phobia as the last few months have gone by and it's consuming me. I can't sleep in a room by myself, I can't go a single day without having to be around a million people, with a million things going on, running around in circles as fast as I can so I don't have to think about what I'm going to distract myself with tomorrow, how abandoned the boy I loved has made me feel, how sick and damaged everything seems to be, how there are too many people in the world, how there aren't ENOUGH people to keep me from feeling desperately, achingly alone or how it seems to be getting harder and harder to breathe with each passing day. It's over, Marco. He walked away entirely. It's not a break anymore, it's not a joke, there's no chance of him ever loving me the way I loved him. He can't. He's too fucking afraid and now I'm sitting here, shell-shocked, even after months of the truth hanging in my face. I was totally blindsided and completely crushed. I'm still a mess. And now, I make myself crazy so that I don't have to think about you. And how young and radiant you were. How wonderful and beautiful and sweet you were. And how I didn't take the time, couldn't see past my own self-absorbedness to even get to know you.
And to be honest, I think if we had been better friends, you would have been able to have helped me not to feel as insane as I do. I know now that had we been friends, I would have done anything for you, because you would have taken care of me.
I think about all those kids who were with you that day. They did the best they could have. They were brave, and no one is to blame. It's horrifying, and they all feel guilty and more than anything I want them to find peace. I'd never tell anyone, never utter a word of it, because it would be a horrible thing to say and would probably damage them forever. But as much as they shouldn't feel guilty .. I do wish they had tried harder. I wish they had pulled you out. I wish I had been there at the right moment so that you could have kept on being wonderful and alive. I want to be able to wake up tomorrow and know that, if I wanted to, I could wrap my arms around you and tell you how wonderful you are. How wonderful I know you are, even though I wasn't there to see it.
I'm so scared, Marco. I'm scared for our friends. For our families, especially yours. I want to make this better. I want to take everyone's pain away. It's what I do. What I'm known for. Erin Burley, reliever of pain. Saviour when needed most. I do everything I can to be that for everyone. But sometimes I feel like all the pain I'm trying to take away just sticks to me like burrs. I carry everyone's hurt and disaster and turmoil with me wherever I go, on top of all of mine. I know I can't carry it anymore, Marco. It's too heavy, and I'm so exhausted. I'm too depressed and frightened and lonely. Because I'm carrying it all by myself.
Dear, sweet Marco. Smile. Right now, as you hear me crying, please smile as best as you can. Keep all the love I feel for you right now, and all the love everyone else has felt for you your whole life and never let it go. If I know that your smiling down on me, the load feels lighter.
I just wish I still had the reinforcements that I thought I would. Six months ago, I'd never have imagined myself standing where I am today.
And that absolutely terrifies me.