Ecclesiastes 3:1 states, to everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven. A time to be born, and a time to die. A time to plant, and a time to pluck up. A time to break down, and a time to build up. A time to weep, and a time to laugh. A time to mourn, and a time to dance. Even though, right now we want to mourn and weep, he would want us to laugh and dance. He kept a positive outlook on life, and even though we are hurt because he is gone, because he received twenty-three years, when he should've gotten so many more, he would want us to smile, because he lived.
I am the personification of heartbreak and devastation right now. He stole my breath on the bus in sixth grade, and my heart at a basketball game my sophomore year of high school. It all happened so movie like. He was basketball captain, I was dance team captain, and one moment of eyes locking during halftime and that was it. I fell in love like you fall asleep, slowly and then all at once. He was smart, all honors classes, and high achieving GPA's. He was athletic, and determined. He was a leader, and driven. He was the funniest person I knew, and could put a smile on my face no matter what. My prom date, my high school sweetheart, my first love. My only boyfriend. The problem here is that I wanted him to speak at my funeral, and here I stand delivering words I never planned to utter from my lips. I want more days than I will possibly be granted, but If I could take some of my numbered days and give them to him, I truly would.
Grief does not change you, it reveals you. It reveals how weak I feel without you, and how I drew strength from you. Someone so strong, so bright. A candle in a dark room. You would never mind when I lit my own candle with your fire, because I could never dim you. You were an advocate for the community, leading service projects with your fraternity, rebuilding playgrounds, giving back even when you had so little yourself. He put others first, His future was lit from his own light of life, and he succeeded at whatever he pursued without any regard for failure.
It was pure poetry watching you live. Over the span of ten years, you gave me a small forever and I can never repay you, just live how you always pushed me to. It is in nature for stars to cross, so I believe that even in my desperation to escape this pain, and false wishes to have never met you, it would have been inevitable. You were mine. I am yours. Your last days were lived out in your undeniable humor, your infectious laughter, and your bright warming smile. Within those moments, I couldn't have ever wished to not know you.
You were pure, and genuine. People like you only reveal yourself in rare moments, and you have to earn that. But that doesn't mean there isn't pain. The thing about pain is, it demands to be felt. It is all consuming like fire, and you were soothing like ice. So as I constantly find myself ravaged by fire, and craving a calm I can never get back, I also welcome the pain, the fire, because it is a constant reminder that I once had my other half, my ice.
So I thank you for living, for tattooing my body with memories, and for leaving your mark on the world. In your truest and crude humor, you would say, "time is such a slut, she screws everyone", and with that, all I can do is laugh.
(only parts of this speech are true, and he did not die, only our relationship.)