Wednesday Morning, 9 a.m.

Some dates stay with you. They creep up on you when you do not expect them, they lure nearby for days ahead, attach themselves to the season, the mood, the memory. And in that uncertain moment between winter and spring, when the sun is warm but the winds freeze you right to the bone, that's when it arrives. In the back of your spine, you know. Another year has passed, and it's March 31 all over again.

I only remember how sunny it was, how lovely. How spring was just around the corner, we could taste it on our tongues and for the first time in a long while, I sensed a grain of hope in the weary useless days that had gathered around me. How at least there was that to hold on to, to smile about. A day later, in that classroom, with your picture, with that silence, how different the world looked then. I could have never imagined. I could have never guessed.

It's a long time ago now, memories fade and get washed away in the white noise that is our lives, it's not unusual. Too much you did not see that we did, that we added to our hearts, our minds our synapses. But not a day goes by when I think of you and do not stop, if but for a second, in my cerebral tracks. Remember your blond hair, your infectious smile, remember the darkness in your eyes that day when you walked out alone and how could we have known. Mostly I remember what you left when you went away. Life is finite, you have but this one. Your family has but this one, your friends. You do what you will with it, of course. But it seems wisest just to live it, after all.

There may come a day, when you won't regret it, and that day is worth all the wait.