She slipped on some ice and hit her head a little.  Once inside together they showered, most likely warming from the cold kalamazoo winter.  Feeling tired, her fiance took napped while she laid in the bath.  He awoke to her already cold body. Wrote his letter and let his finger slip on the trigger.

I can’t even understand or believe that my friend died.  Even knowing the story now, and that she let herself become a slave to heroin.  She was one of the most beautiful girls I ever knew.  She impacted so many lives and didn’t even realize the beauty in that.  The beauty in the world around, so close to her. How could she not feel that like a blanket.  I’m not angry anymore but I’m so closed off to it all.  Like it’s not real. That the memorial service and the after party with all close friends, weren’t about the death of a loved one.  It hasn’t set in and I don’t know if it ever will but I have been impacted for the better. All the more reason to love her.