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>A couple weeks ago I came across a letter I had saved >that I was writing to you. I never got to send it. I >had forgotten all about it. In it, I was discussing >something about gay rights (of course) and it brought >back all the discussions that we had. I couldn't even >read it. > >I was very proud of you Justin. I don't know if I ever >told you that, but I was very proud of you. > >I don't know what happens to people when they die. >Ducky thinks you're in some place -heaven? - where >you'll be hanging out with lots of other people. If >that's true then you met a whole bunch of my friends >from high school. They're your age, a few a couple >years older. They're all prolly still taking gym >class with Miss Puchi just so they can check her out. >Alex is prolly still stage diving. The song I wrote >for them is recorded now. It was one of the hardest >things I ever did but I finally sang it and I wouldn't >quit until it sounded exactly how I felt, sad and >angry and screaming. And I guess maybe you met Robbie. > He was 14. And Matthew. And Gwen. > >Maybe you all are together. I don't know. > > But I know your memory lives on in the people who >knew and loved you. I miss you.

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