(no subject)
eric heckendorn is dead. my neighbor. my friend. my classmate and team mate. my first kiss. my first high school boyfriend. he used to call me big butt, in a way that didn't offend me, but made me smile. he was quiet. and had a goofy laugh. morgan and i stole his dickies and some sweatshirts and wore them to school one day. he thought my glasses were cool. the first romantic moment of my life was on the bleachers with eric at one of my sister's soccer games. it was raining and i was cold, so he held my hands and we used his coat as a rain cover. he walked me home once and i could tell he wanted to kiss me, but he didn't, and i liked that he didn't. it was sweet. he passed me notes in the hallways between classes that he folded up like little envelopes. and inside he covered the pages with the most careful boy cursive I've ever seen. the first kiss happened on the brown recliner in his room. it was slobbery, but well timed and he was shy afterward. we weren't together very long. i think i hurt his feelings, because for about a year after, my house and car would get egged on a regular basis. he graduated a year before me and i haven't seen him, or heard from him since. until my mom read his obituary to me over the phone. i heard he moved to southern california. my mom read that he'd joined the military. in the picture, she said, he was wearing a beret. i wanted to see the obituary for myself, but my dad had thrown the newspapers out.
sad. he was 24 when he took his life.
"Life should be like a hard puzzle with no picture and every time you get a piece to fit you get happy and the rest of the time you're annoyed and you're trying to get things together." -E.H.
sad. he was 24 when he took his life.
"Life should be like a hard puzzle with no picture and every time you get a piece to fit you get happy and the rest of the time you're annoyed and you're trying to get things together." -E.H.