When I was in high school I had a huge crush on a boy named Ben.
He had long bangs and was really tall and really nice and really White.
I liked this boy so much in fact that I asked him to my prom and tried to play it off like I didn't after he said no. I don't know why I thought he would say yes. He was quite open about his love for this girl in my orchestra who was very tall and very blond and very hot.
He danced with me at the prom and allowed it to be photographed, even though I could tell it made him MISERABLY uncomfortable.
The next time I would talk to Ben after graduation would be on Facebook. He had a photo album called "That Cancer Thing" or something similar to this. I chatted him and asked him if he was sick and he said he had been. In his pics he was getting chemo like it was just some thing he had to do before he went to class.
It never occurred to me that he would die. Never.
My friend Aisha confirmed that he passed last year. I had no idea. After seeing those pictures in his album, I just assumed he was better or would get better soon and continue on his path to being hot and awesome.
He crossed my mind the other day and I went to his Facebook page just to see condolences going back to last year.
I cried and we weren't even close.
If I could name one thing that I miss about being a kid it's death being a fleeting thought, not a real thing. It's something that happens to other people's friends and parents and grandparents- not to you. My grandpa died when I was a toddler. I don't remember him alive at all. This Hispanic boy died of cancer when I was in middle school. He was in my art class and my friend Jocelyn's boyfriend's friend. I don't remember his name.
I remember Ben though. I remember him clearly.
Sigh, misty eyes. Lauren and Sickles are right: I am sensitive.
