She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I was sixteen years old and even at that age I had a little boy’s crush on her.
I hadn’t seen her in almost forty years. This morning, I found out she died yesterday.
She is by no means the first of my school ‘circle’ to die, but her death has made me well up more than once now.
She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. And she still is.
I’m sorry. It’s hard to lose friends, even ones you haven’t seen in years. I hope your memories bring you comfort in the days ahead.
Sorry to hear, bro… Did she know you - ever had any idea you liked her?
Sorry about your loss.
When I was in grade school, there was a girl who was the prettiest and most popular girl in the school. She was petite, with dark curls of hair, big expressive eyes, and a smile that lit up everything around her. She was smart, funny and fun to be with.
I recently saw a picture of her, taken in her 60s. Distraught face with way too much makeup and a mean expression. She looked like a tired white-trash whore.
Sometimes memories are best left alone.
I felt the same way when a girl I knew and liked, who definitely would have been on Facebook, wasn’t. I gathered the nerve to message her sister one day, and was informed she passed away over a decade before. I was sad.
Stanley from 3rd grade loved me to distraction. I knew because he whacked me in the arm everyday at recess. I grew up with brothers so I knew how to hit. I had, had enough of the arm whacking and I punched him right in the nose one day. Broke his Clark Kent glasses and bloodied his nose. Boy, I got in trouble.
Flash foward: I needed a new Dentist. Called a practice of 6 Dentists. Made an appt. Got there and guess who my Dentist was? None other than Arm-whacking Stanley. He grew up well. Nice looking, no Clark Kent glasses. After the exam, I got up from the chair and he moved closer to me…and…patted my shoulder. I jumped alittle. I thought he was gonna whack me. I never went back. Just felt wrong.
OP…I’m truly sorry for your loss. Have a little remembrance thing on your own. Light a candle, play a song. Maybe your gather up a bit of closure. I wish you peace.
Gee, it only took seven posts… :rolleyes:
KarlGauss, I’m sorry for your loss. It’s hard to lose those we idealized back when we were idealists ourselves. Mortality creeps up slowly and silently. 
So inappropriate . . . it’s Surreal:dubious:
One of the nicest girls in my class died sometime shortly after high school. It really shook my dad; he said that parents weren’t supposed to outlive their kids. Her brothers both became doctors and have an office not far from my home; every time I drive by I think of Rona.
I was eulogizing youth as much as beauty, myself as well as her.
I thought the OP was going to be similar to the Girl in the White Dress scene from Citizen Kane. It must be tragic when it’s a someone you knew.
My similar story was the sweet, cute young girl from college, who was killed in a car crash two years after graduating. She was the daughter of our department head and played clarinet in the college band. I wish had the courage to actually ask her out while I had the chance.
I recently returned to my 40th high school reunion. It was great to meet and greet all my old classmates, but one was conspicuously absent: I’ll call her “Kate.”
Kate was the prettiest girl in school, and wore the latest fashions. She brought the Annie Hall look to school before Annie Hall was released. She was a model, and modelled for (Canadians would know this) Eaton’s catalogues. I saw her on advertisements in the Toronto subway. She also sat behind me in English Lit class, and didn’t get English Lit at all. I did, and tutored her as I could, at her request. I was kind of bemused that she would even speak to me (dumpy old ordinary me), but she wanted help in English Lit, and she seemed to see me as somebody harmless who could help, and I was willing to help, and we struck up a weird friendship.
I was so saddened to see that Kate had passed away in the years since. Even more, I was saddened to hear that she was a suicide.
Dear Kate, I may be only just the young man in the 22nd row, but know that you had friends who could have helped you through anything. Life is a damn sight harder than English Lit, but you always had friends. Together, we’re stronger.
Dear Kate, I miss a world without you in it. Rest in peace.
Correction: “Dear Kate, I miss a world with you in it.” Have I got that right?
Aw, hell, Kate, any way you slice it, I miss you. I miss those bright, pretty eyes looking into mine when we studied English Lit, the same eyes I saw smiling at subway patrons in the advertisements, and while I wasn’t so dumb as to think there was anything between us, you made me feel special. Like I was worth something.
Thank you again, Kate. You helped make me the person I am today. I hope we can meet again, someday and somewhere.