I went to the funeral of a sixteen year old. Her 18 year old boyfriend lay in the coffin next to hers. We all wore pink. Her mother, ashen faced, clung to the coffin throughout the service. Her father shushed her, looking in equal parts devastated and embarrassed by the show of emotion.

Pimply and self-conscious, their friends talked of remembering them forever. They told stories of shared teenage moments, stories full of hope and faith. They promised to think about them every day.

I am old enough to know this is not true. I cried because they are not.

song: Shakespeare’s Sister – Stay

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