The only positive of Alec Morrison’s death that I can think of is that his depression is finally over. He is free. The only thing about Alec Morrison’s death that hurts is the gaping hole he left in my heart.

People say I wasn’t there in the last stretch of Alec’s life and that I didn’t care about him. That he was just a wisp of a memory in my mind, a background singer in the song of my life, but they’re wrong. Alec was the sun of my solar system and the anchor that kept me tethered to this earth even when we were apart.

This is our story…

I met Alec my freshman of high school. I was the thin, gangling blonde girl who lived behind the lenses of her glasses and hid her body behind oversized sweaters. I was teased, mostly by these two cheerleaders. They taunted me for being in choir, having split ends, and, according to them, for breathing. 

One day I was on my way to class, and I came across my favorite bullying cheerleaders. They were loitering outside my classroom, but today they were not alone. The cheerleaders were hanging onto two varsity football players’ arms, and dazzling the two attractive guys with compliments.

When they finally saw me their eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. One of the cheerleaders was drinking a soda and she decided to pour the remainder of it down my shirt. I remember running out of the building with tears streaming down my face, and someone yelling at me to wait. That’s when someone caught my arm and spun me around. It was one of the football players. The one and only Alec Morrison; the freshman football superstar, the one boys wanted to be and the girls wanted to date. Alec told me those cheerleaders were bitches and he took off his jacket and gave it to me, so I could cover up the brown sticky soda stain that now engulfed my shirt.

After that moment we became best friends, and the story of the choir nerd and the freshman football star started to be written.

Alec was very protective of me since the beginning. He always walked me to everyone of my classes, and if anyone started to mock me Alec would usually punch them in the face or threaten the daylights out of them. I was always worried Alec was going to get expelled for fighting or flunk out of school because he wouldn’t do any work. His mind was always on tuned to football.

People though our relationship was weird but we complimented each other. Alec helped me become confidence. He helped me ditch the dorky glasses for contacts and throw away my oversized sweaters for tight tank tops. I helped Alec get rid of his anger issues and kept his ego down.

I went to every one of Alec’s football games. I stood in the front of the student section in a sports bra and spandex with Alec’s number painted on my chest. Alec also went to every one of my choir performances. He would always bring me flowers, whistle the loudest and stand up after every one my solos.

My junior year though is when everything started change. I broke free of my shell and become sociable and beautiful. The cheerleaders envied me and left me alone. I started to make friends, one being Alec’s twin sister Estella, and Alec started to look at me in a new light. He used beautiful in his vocabulary when referring to me, and he started to kiss my cheek after saying good bye.

Alec’s actions scared me. Fear tossed and turned in my stomach and ate apart my insides because I didn’t want to fall in love with him; nevertheless, I could not deny my affection towards him. I always found myself lost in his iron gray eyes, and I contently yearned to run my hands though his blue black hair and kiss his thin pink lips.

One night after we had gone ice-skating on this frozen pond in the woods, Alec, out of nowhere, swooped down and kissed me. At first I was hesitant, having never kissed anyone before, but after a second I molded into the kiss. Alec’s kiss seemed to ignite every sense and feeling that rested in my bones. My love towards Alec seemed to explode like a bomb when he wrapped his arms around my waist and he whispered always and forever in my ear between every kiss.

That’s when I knew, without a doubt, that I was in love with Alec Morrison.

Our love was passionate. It was explosive like a fireworks display on Fourth of July and it was gentle like a boat rocking on the ocean’s placid current.

Our love was short though.

It became strained and breakable our senior year.

It all started on the first football game of the season when a guy tackled Alec. The opponent had collided with Alec and pulled him to the ground with his arms wrapped around his legs. After the referee blew his whistle and ended the play, the opponent that tackled Alec bounced to his feet, but Alec didn’t. That’s when I knew something was wrong. I stood in the student section next to Estella, and I remember grabbing her for support as the athlete trainers dashed onto the field to attend to Alec.

That night Alec had broken his leg and his football season was over. His scholarships to various universities had evaporated into thin air, and his dream of playing in the NFL was terminated. Alec’s doctor told him that he could probably never play football again. His leg was too fragile.

That was the first match that lit Alec’s depression.

The second match was when I told Alec that I wasn’t going to the local community college we had planned on attending together after Alec broke his leg.

I had gotten into Julliard’s School of Music after flying up to New York and auditioning. I loved Alec to death and I didn’t want to leave him, but I wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity. Julliard was my dream, and even though Alec’s dream was over didn’t mean mine was.

Alec was supportive of my decision. He applauded me with a genuine smile, peppered me with kisses and wouldn’t stop congratulating me, but he wasn’t happy. He was playing up this façade. Fooling everyone with his colossal hugs, chocking laughing and keen compliments, but I could see right through him like he was made of smoke. His iron eyes were dimmed. Swirling with darkness and frozen cold. His smiles were forced. His laughs were dry, and when he kissed me he didn’t say always and forever afterwards because he thought that our epic story was fading. That our grand blockbuster relationship would not last forever because I was going to New York where any guy could scoop me up in the fairy tale setting of the Big Apple.

The third match that lit Alec’s depression was the day his best friend, Jenson, got a full ride to the University of Texas to play football.

That’s the day when everything inside Alec broke. The boy that tore after me the day I got humiliated by those cheerleaders was gone. He was no longer that boy that would carry me over puddles in the rain. He was no longer the boy that held my hand under the table, kissed me in the school hallways or sent me flowers just because he wanted to. He was broken. Drowning in a green sea of obscurity, unable to break the surface and breathe. He was depressed his leg would never function right again. He was devastated that his always and forever was moving two states away, and he was jealous that his best friend was living his dream. The most important people in Alec’s life were walking down the golden road powdered in success while he stayed at home with his parents, nursing his leg, and working a dead beat job while going to school.

The last match that lit Alec’s depression was the day I got on that plane to New York.

I remember it like it was yesterday. It was amity day equip with a cloudless sky doused in indigo. Alec drove me to the airport. I had already said my goodbyes to my parents earlier in the morning because I wanted to spend my last minutes on Maine’s hard dense soil with Alec. We walked hand and hand though the terminal, up the stairs and to the ticket scanning booth. The only time Alec let go of my hand was when I had to walk freely though the metal detector with my shoes and jewelry off. Before I boarded my plane I engulfed Alec in hug and cried into the sleeve of his shirt. The broken boy gave me a firm squeeze and let out a couple broken sniffles before I pulled after and ceased my crying.

“Please, you don’t have to go,” Alec said tears sliding down his stubble filled cheeks.

“But I want to go. I need to go.”

“How can I protect you when you are all the way in New York?”

“I don’t need protecting anymore Alec, I think you just want me stay and protect you.”

He didn’t respond for a minute. We just stood next to my gate in a sea of people lugging suitcase and holding tickets. I didn’t feel the presence of the world though. It was just Alec and I standing frozen in times ticking hands.

“You know,” he finally let forth. “I feel like our roles are reversed. I feel like I am you our freshman year in high school. The scared one, the one pulling away from the world’s burning light. And you, my love, are me; the strong one, the protector, the one that holds up the world to keep it from crushing me. You are my life preserver, the one right keeping me alive right now and I’m scared if you go I’ll drown.”

“Alec-

“Stop,” Alec said firmly. His jaw set and his eyes a hurricane of emotion. “Just stop Ava.”

And I did stop talking. I stopped talking because the way he said my name, so shady and frosty, scared me.

“I don’t want to be your backup plan Ava, and I definitely don’t want to be your second choice.”

“You’re acting like I’m breaking up with you Alec.”

“Aren’t you?” he asked, a tear escaping from his diluted eyes.

“No I’m not Alec.”

“You should,” he exclaimed bitterly. “You should break up with me and find a musician in New York to fall in love with.”

“What happened to always and forever? What happened to us? What happened to my prince charming? What happened to the boy I fell in love with?”

Alec didn’t respond. However, a lady’s voice crackled though the airport’s speakers informing everyone that the flight to New York City was leaving in a minute.

“You should go,” Alec mumbled.

“No goodbye kiss?” I asked softly. “You always kiss me goodbye Alec Morrison. Please don’t stop now.”

He did give me a kiss, but it was short one. There were no fireworks that came with it. No angelic light. No choir singing in the background. No clapping in my ears or love speaking to me in my brain telling me this real. It was just a kiss.

The last thing Alec ever said to me was, “Loosing you will hurt, but I will survive.”

I boarded my plane after that crying my eyes out. I walked down the air bridge with my carry on back slung over my shoulder and I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to look at the love of my life because I’m pretty sure he had just broken up with me and ripped out my heart.

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I was single the whole four years I studied at Julliard. I was asked out quite frequently, but I turned every dancer, singer and musician down. I became the un-dateable girl at Julliard, and of course since I was “un-dateable” every guy wanted to get in my pants.

I texted Alec every day the first month I was at Julliard. I wanted comfort. Someone to be the pillow I could cry into because I did not have any friends.

Alec, however, did not answer any of my texts.

I started to see a counselor at Julliard, because I had no one to converse with and I sure as hell wasn’t going to call my parents. We were never close, and I had never talked to them about my feelings in my entire in my life.

I was truly alone in the city that never sleeps.

The Julliard counselor advised me to join a support group after I gushed to her about Alec. I took her advice and leaped on the idea. I attended the support group and it helped me feel better as I cried into tissues, and expressed my feelings about Alec. The support group leader advised me not to text Alec ever again. She told me that he had moved on and walked down another path with another girl in Maine’s wooden atmosphere. She told me to pull myself together, make friends and force on my music, and I did, I did everything she told me to do. I threw myself into New York’s welcoming arms and I basked under its neon lights. Once I lifted Alec off of my shoulders I felt weightless, and I took advantage of that. I went to parties and got drunk. I went to clubs and danced. I went to poetry slams and snapped with the audience. I attended open mic night and got standing ovations, and I made friend even though I was branded as “un-dateable.”

Looking back, I think I was unable to date anyone at Julliard because I still thought about Alec. He would show up in my dreams uninvited, and when I would sing on Julliard’s wooden stage, I would still look into the audience trying to find Alec’s blue black hair among the crowd. However, I had to remind myself that Alec had probably moved on, and chartered down a forsaken road towards a bright future. He might have a girlfriend, be at a university in Maine or have a new best friend that replaced Jenson. He could have anything. I knew that. I also knew that if he wanted to talk to me or text me he would.

I did text Alec once. Three years after my support group leader had told me not to.

It was during my last month at Julliard before I graduated. I had a performance with my acapella group the night I texted him. The performance was a regal success. My group and I had received a standing ovation, and had the crowd roaring with cheers. After the performance a man approached me backstage. He was dressed in a suit and he wore shinny polished shoes. He was thin, muscular, in his late thirties, and had facial hair sprouting from his pointy chin. He introduced himself as Cole Edwards, owner and producer of some California recording company that I had never heard of in my life. He showered me in complements, shot me smoldering looks, and flirted here and there before he offered me a recording contract. He told me that I could be the next big thing. I was young, beautiful and had a voice that could paralyze an audience with a single note. I accepted his offer, giddy and high off of excitement. We exchanged numbers and he told me when I graduated at the end of the month that he would fly me to Los Angeles.

That’s why I texted Alec. I told him that I had gotten a recording contract, I was going to LA at the end of the month, and that I missed him and still had a place in my heart for him. I didn’t expect him to respond. I wasn’t counting on it, but five minutes after I sent the text my inbox light up like a Christmas tree, and message from Alec Morrison illuminated my screen.

It said…

You lose yourself trying to hold on to someone who doesn’t care about you. Congratulations Ava.

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I regretted texting him after I read his message because now I knew that he was still a broken doll with a gimp leg and a missing heart. Alec had not moved on, and the mere thought of Alec’s depressed state made my insides quake because I blamed myself. My actions had caused Alec to drown.

For a moment I almost considered going back home to the dewy green and brown land of Maine. I could almost picture myself on that plane barreling towards Alec to re-light the candle that was our epic love story, but I did not end up going, solely because I could not face Alec Morrison. If his simple text made me feel like curling up in a tight ball and crying, then how was I going to walk into his sweet smelling abode and apologize to him for leaving him?

As a result, what would I even apologize for? Would I say sorry that I left him to follow my dream at getting a recording contract? Sorry that he broke his leg and shattered his only dream in life? Sorry that he chased after me that day our freshman year? Sorry I fell in love with him? Sorry that I choose music over him? Sorry I let him drown? Sorry that he was one of the best things that ever happened to me? Sorry that leaving him was the hardest choice I ever made? Sorry that I’m not truly sorry?

All the same, I graduated from Julliard at the end of May, and it was not a joyous event filled with sugar covered laugher for me. My parents did not show their smiling faces at the lavish ceremony. They only sent me a text that read, Congratulations we are in the Caribbean. Therefore, I stood alone in my blue clad cap and gown and watched from the sidelines as my fellow classmates dove into their parents arms.

Right after I walked across that stage, I dumped my graduation gown in the nearest garbage bin and headed towards the airport. My dorm room had already been wiped clean, and not a speck of dust tarnished the white walled room. I had sold all my furniture and I only had two suitcases of stuff to my name.

When I boarded my on plane I felt like I was leaving my old life behind, and my connection with the east coast had been severed from my soul. On that plane I deleted all the contacts in my phone including my parents and Alec’s number. I was truly starting fresh and I was not going to let my past drag my down below the surface and bury my future in the ocean’s torrent surf. I was going to be free like a bird and my music was going to be my wings.

Los Angeles became my new home the second I landed on Californian’s sandy soil. The beach became my safe haven, the recording studio became my salvation and my fans became my new family. Even with horny Cole Edwards as my producer he kept his promise to me and made me famous. After two years of recording an album and opening up for famous artists like Bruno Mars and Ellie Goulding, my name was finally out into the air. Teenagers were buying my CDs, and my songs were being played on the radio. I went on the tour all over the states and in Europe, I become the poster child for music, and I made so much money that it was coming out of my shirtsleeves. I had never dreamed of getting to this pinnacle in my life; to be a millionaire and to be singing all over the world.

I also met a boy. His name was Sebastian Johnson, and he was a musician that was also signed to Cole Edwards’ recording company. I saw him periodically in the recording studio and he was the definition of gorgeous. He had wavy brown hair that reminded me of dark chocolate and black eyes that reminded me of the night sky. When he asked me out to dinner one night after an extensive day in the recording studio, I was hesitant. I had not dated anyone since Alec and I was ambivalent about going out with a man. I caved though and agreed to dinner with the mysterious man, and sooner than later I was calling the rising artist my boyfriend. He was no Alec Morrison, but I learned to love Sebastian.

Alec Morrison’s name did not resurface until one day in the recording studio when I was twenty five. I was recording my second album and belting out lyrics in the comfort of the booth, when the music fizzled out and I found myself it roused silence. I turned to look at Cole Edwards and the recording crew, who was lounging outside the booth in comfort chairs, and asked if it hit a wrong note on something. They did not say anything for a moment. They lived in awkward elapsed silence before they told me I had a phone call. That is when I noticed the phone clutched in Cole Edwards’ hand. Usually Cole was sprouting a smirk or winking at me, but his face was emotionless and smooth like marble. Worry had drained his face white and I knew something catastrophic had happened. I swiftly took of my headphones and plowed out of the booth. A tornado ran rampage throughout by body and motion sickness plagued my stomach. I felt like I was going to vomit.

“Is it Sebastian?” I asked franticly as I tore the phone out of Cole’s chubby fingers. “Did something happen to him?”

“No,” Cole replied, “But a girl named Estella Morrison is on the phone. She said there has been a death in the family.”

That is when I felt like fainting. I grabbed on to Cole’s shoulder to steady myself and I heard someone yell in the background to get me a chair. I could not think of sitting right now though. I just put the phone up to my ear and took a huge breath.

“Estella,” I whispered, “Estella you there?”

“Yes I am here Ava. I’m here.”

Estella’s voice was raspy and I could tell she had been crying. I knew what she was going to say before she said it but I listened anyway; silent and ready.

“I was hoping, no offence, that I would never have to talk to you again. I mean it’s been about eight years since I’ve spoken to you Ava. I see you all the time on television though, congratulations on your Grammy for best new artist,” Estella said awkwardly. 

“Thank you,” I said quietly, tears watering in my eyes. “No offence to you too Estella, but can you please get to the point of why you are calling me? I mean you probably had to call a thousand numbers to try to get to me personally so this must be important.”

“It is important,” Estella murmured. “I am calling to tell you that Alec has been in an accident.”

I stopped breathing.

“He was street racing and he lost control of his car.”

I started crying.

“He was going over a 100 miles an hour and flew over the guard rail.”

I stared balling.

“His car was totaled. I’m sorry Ava, but Alec is no longer with us.”

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I did not let Sebastian go to the funeral with me, despite his pleas and comments that he only wanted to keep me safe all the way in Maine. I knew he thought that I was going to have another psychological break down like the one I had at the recording studio after Estella told me Alec had died. I did not let Sebastian go with me though was because I thought it was weird to bring my current boyfriend to my ex-boyfriends’ funeral. To me it had disrespectful written all over it.

It took me a while to enter the funeral home. I just sat in the plush seat of my rental car and stared at the white trimmed building. It was a beautiful place. There was no denying that. The building was white with expansive glass windows that were equip with blood red curtains. White and red rose bushes sat squatty outside the funeral homes’ door and beautiful magnolia trees lay outside the property.

After sitting in my car for thirty minutes I finally mustered up the courage to peel myself out of my car’s interior. I slowly made it up to the building and carefully made it up its steps in my heels. When I slipped inside, the lobby greeted me with cold air and the distance smell of cinnamon air fresher. A man in his late forties with a receding hairline was standing adjacent to the door. He wore a basic black suit and his blue eyes were swimming with sympathy. A silly smile manifested on his lips when he noticed my presences and he glided over to me like he was sliding on a dance floor. 

“You are here for Mr. Alec Morrison’s funeral I assume?” the man asked, his hands formally placed at his side.

I nodded, silently, and bit my lip.

“Well I’m very sorry for your loss,” the man proclaimed, his smile turning into a grimace. “Are you family or a friend?”

“A friend,” I said faintly turning away from the balding man.

“I’m sorry, were you and Alec close?”

“Yes,” I said icily.

“Well Alec’s parents and his sister are in the viewing room which is down the hall to your left if you want to greet your relatives. If not you can stay here in the lobby with some of the others,” he said gesturing to the sea of black that was hovering around room. “There is lemonade and cookies over by the far window, tissue boxes are scattered all around the room, and programs of today’s events are over on the main table to left.”

“Thank you,” I said before I slipped past the man.

I noticed the whole lobby was decorated with a personal touch of Alec. Alec’s favorite football team’s logos were sitting on end tables and pinned to the windows’ red curtains.  His favorite Fall Out Boy album was playing though the home’s stereo speakers and his favorite sinker-doodle cookies were the ones on the refreshment table.

I sunk into the nearest pinstriped chair available and glanced around the room, drinking in my surroundings. There was a ton of people here like Jenson and Alec’s family. There was also a ton of people who I did not recognize. I only guessed that they that went to high school with us.

I was elated that no one took the time to come over to me and I guessing the reason for that was that everyone knew who I was. I heard my name whispered though so many lips and tossed throughout the lobby’s limited air space. People that did not know me from my high school days asked why the famous Ava Rollins was sitting in a small town funeral home. They were told that I was Alec’s ex-girlfriend and I was the one that made Alec loose his wit. They said I was the one that ruined him.

Hearing this split by heart down the middle, and told me that Estella had not told me all the details of Alec’s death on the phone. It had to be more than just a car crash, why else would these people be speaking so ill of me?

I found my eyes drawn to a small table that sat in the middle of the lobby. It was a round wooden table that was engulfed in picture frames. Each frame displayed a picture of Alec Morrison smiling like world peace was actually a real thing. I slide out of my chair and walked over to the table to get a better look. What I noticed was that none of these pictures were recent. They were all stilled memories of Alec’s high school years, and most of them were of Alec and me; of us at Christmas, at football banquets, and choir performances. There were even some of us kissing. 

I felt like was at my own eulogy. That I had died with Alec, and in a sense, I think I did.

There was one picture of us that stood out among the rest. It was of me and Alec our freshman year in high school. We were outside the community football stadium after Alec’s last football game of the season. They had just lost the district championship title and Alec reeked of disappointment. He was walking out of the locker room with his head down and his body glistening of sweat after the game, and I remember yelling his name. His head snapped up immediately and that is when I ran to him and jumped into his arms. Someone must have taken the picture after that because it was a motionless image of me curled up in Alec’s tight embrace. I remember people looking at us weird that night because they all thought our relationship was so bizarre.

We were so different.

The football player and the choir nerd.

Yet that is what made us so special.

That is what made our love story so epic.

Even if Alec hated me in his last days or felt like I abandoned him, I don’t think I really did. I was always there in his heart, as cheesy and cliché as it sounds, because I always thought of him. Wherever I went, famous or not famous, he was lingering in the rear of my thoughts and doing backstrokes around my brain. No matter how hard I pushed him out he was always there, and that was not necessary a negative. 

I stole that picture. I slipped it right out of its protective glass frame and tucked it in my purse, so I could still have a sliver of Alec wherever I went.

I was about to recede back to the protective plush boundaries of that arm chair, when I heard someone say, “Hey everyone just wanted to let you know we are about the shut the casket, so if anyone has not got to say their last goodbyes to Alec please hurry in and do so. We still have a church service and a burial to do.”

The one who had spoken was Estella. She was standing at the mouth of the long hallway that opened into the viewing room. Her blue black hair was curled up in a messy bun at the top of her head and her eyes were ringed red from crying.

After Estella spoke, everyone in the lobby stopped what they were doing and proceeded over to the viewing room. After Estella had ushered the remaining stragglers down the hall, she finally spotted me, curled up in the huge armchair. When our eyes met she forced a small smile and I gave her a small one back. She then trotted over to me and sat down next to me in an equally large chair. We just stared at each other for a second, feeding off each other’s presence until Estella took my hand into and hers and squeezed it as hard as she could.

“Thank you for coming,” Estella said solemnly. “I am glad you are here.”

“I’m glad I am here too.”

“To be honest I did not think you would come especially alone.”

“My boyfriend wanted to come, but I did not let him. I felt like I needed to do this alone.”

“That’s very brave of you,” Estella said in all honestly. “He seems like a great guy, Sebastian. When you would go to any award show I always watched. It looked like he treated you well.”

“He is amazing,” I let forth. “He’s not Alec though. He will never be Alec.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Alec did not die in a car crash did he?” I asked after taking a huge breath.

“No. He did not. He-

“Don’t,” I said, tears pooling in my irises. “I do not need to know.”

We both went for tissues at the same time, and held hands again while we cried.

“He wrote you a letter,” Estella revealed as she pulled a crumbled piece of loose leaf out of her dress pocket. She handed it to me before she blew her nose into her tissue. I took the letter from her weak grasp and held it tight against my chest like it was my last lifeline.

“I can tell you do not want to go in for the viewing,” Estella said. “But afterwards could you go in there and say a few words about Alec? My parents would appreciate it and I would too. I think it would be nice to hear about Alec from the girl that knew him best.”

Estella left after that, leaving me alone to wallow in my impeccable sorrow. I did not take anytime though to open up the wadded ripped piece of paper. The first thing I saw was Alec’s sloppy handwriting and my name standing boldly in crisp letter at the top. I read.

My dearest Avalon (Ava) Demetria Rollins,

I just want it all to end. I want to stop seeing you in my dreams. Your very image is tearing me apart and I do not know where to go from here. After you left me at that airport I went home and I cried. I cried not because I missed you but because I was getting worse and you were getting better. I always thought I’d be the strong one in our relationship; the one to hold us up though all of God’s obstacles. The only thing that kept me sane while you were at college was the distant though that you would make your way back to me and shower me in sunlight again. That dream was crushed though when you sent me that text three years ago that you had obtained a recording contract. I was so happy for you Ava, but at the same time I could not be more depressed because I knew that I had to move on. I had to say good bye to you.

I hooked up with a lot of girls in the past three years. I dropped out of college and worked at a gas station during the week full time and coached competitive football on weekends. I also found myself in therapy once a week. I tried to tell my therapist everything but I still kept a lot of crap to myself because I knew nobody gave a flying $*#^ about me.

I hope someone finds this letter and gives it to you Ava. I hope you understand how much I loved you. I’m sorry I fell apart. I knew I was being selfish, but I needed you, and even when you were away I felt like I was living though you. You lived the famous life I wanted, and that was enough for me. My depression came and went throughout these eight years, but your memory remained constant in my life whether I liked it or not.

Always and Forever,
                         
                                Alec Morrison

P.S Congratulations on your Grammy. You deserve it. I was standing up whistling at home with Estella when you won. I will admit I was jealous when you kissed Sebastian after you won, but he seems like a great guy. I’m happy for you.

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I spoke after the viewing like Estella asked me too. I walked up to the podium next to Alec’s closed casket with my head held high and heart strong. Even when people whispered harsh comments about me being here, I still stood up there and spoke about Alec Morrison.  I said…

“The only positive of Alec Morrison’s death that I can think of is that his depression is finally over. He is free. The only thing about Alec Morrison’s death that hurts is the gaping hole he left in my heart.

People say I wasn’t there in the last stretch of Alec’s life and that I didn’t care about him. That he was just a wisp of a memory in my mind, a background singer in the song of my life, but they’re wrong. Alec was the sun of my solar system and the anchor that kept me tethered to this earth even when we were apart.

This is our story…