The sun is shinning and the people around me are laughing and talking happily.
 It's a strange kind of feeling when you think of tragedies and others around you
 are as happy as you couldn't be.

I think of many things on the bus ride home. Mostly about someone dead, I think
-Or I liked to believe that maybe if I knew then what I know now than maybe I could
   Have done something...I could have reached out and prevent the pre-destined end
for them.

I wished I had a time machine. I could undo their death, I could probably would have
even made them happy.
I think this because others (2-4) have told me after meeting me, I have cheered them up, I made them forget their depression and problems while being with me or at least made the pain easier to handle.

Could that have worked with him?

Maybe not....
Maybe so.

I'll never know and I try to think anymore about it but, my wanders-yes it loves to wonder about those sorts of things.

I think of him again- how I wish I couldn't think anymore-
I remember the time when I turned seventeen, I didn't have a care in the world,
I didn't let anything bug me that much-or this much- I took everything with a grain of salt.

Then I heard of his death...I cried and I don't know why.
I've seen him and heard him, thought he was good at what he does and that was it. Not much of a silly fan girl just like a person you pass day by day, their familiar and you don't think much of them-like a plain face in a blank crowd.

I wonder if he sees life still?

Seeing his friends and family staying or moving on, seeing tributes of him and fresh cut flowers resting on his former door step?

Smiling and laughing at his child, walking with his friends down the street...

Does he see me?

Does he even know?

Is he patting my shoulder and telling me to move on?

Or in my saddest thinking...Is he pleading silently for me to find away to save him?


Maybe he's applauding at all the work I do for him, admiring my devotion but still shaking his head.