They buried her love yesterday, in the cemetery not far from her house. Everyone was in black; she had a blue ribbon in her hair, it had been his favorite color. She didn’t cry like everyone else did. She hadn’t cried since the night of the accident, when she got the call. She had a fight with him and they were mad at each other. She had been with friends, just hanging out. Then his mom called her and said that there had been an accident. He was taken to the hospital and put on life support; he was in a coma. She had cried for hours after she went to see him; lying in the bed with tubes going in and out. He died three weeks later. All their friends were at the funeral. All of his family and even some of hers, too. After they lowered the casket, she ran. She ran back to her car and then drove to the barn where she kept her horse. She sat on a bale and told the black stallion that she missed him and his dark brown eyes; that she would never go back to visit his grave and see his name printed in that stone. She told her horse that she would love again, someday. But not anytime soon, she needed to heal. Her horse bumped her with his nose saying that was okay. Ever since the night that he died, she’d fall asleep imagining him lying next to her. She would talk to him and tell him how things were at school and how their friends were doing. She would call him “stupid” for rolling his car into that ditch and not being more careful. She would imagine his answers to her questions, and what he’d say to her stories. She would imagine the dry wit of his sarcasm and his funny, random statements. She knows that she’ll get over him but things will never be the same without him there to make her smile. She asked her friends to avoid talking about him, to help her forget. When she went to sleep last night, she didn’t think of him lying next to her, instead she cried, “Please Lord, help me forget. Take care of him, but help me to forget.” Ciao