Here�s to countless sleepovers, to elementary school crushes, to playing �lava,� to matzoah picnics in lakewood park, to braces, to jumping up and down, to water fights, to revelations in a backyard, to growing up, to having too much left to live for, to loud laughs, squeezing cats, periods, dreams about boobs, nintendo, and all the other silly, trite, oh-so-meaningful meaningless blather. Here�s to eighteen being too young to die. Meredith spelled with a �y�: Meredyth, because they thought it was the way her ancestor spelled it (and were later proved wrong). It hurts too much to type the whole name, to keep having to say the fact, to hearing it while careening down route 29. I don�t know when this will be real. People like Grace aren�t supposed to die. To go on, I need a world view that tells me Grace was supposed to die, but I admit I�m having trouble. There�s so much I can�t type or say or feel or stop feeling. Grace.
Grace.
Please somebody, tell me how to make this right.
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