I don't get it

But I never do, ya know? I mean, I've never lost anyone that's been really close to me. My grandpa, yeah, but that was two... three... four... I don't know how many years after his stroke. And he was miserable. So that was okay. But I've never had anyone really close to me die for no reason at all. So, for some reason, it's always worse for me when it's someone that I didn't know. It's that lady in drama club that I talked to sometimes, but never really made friends with, and I can't remember one conversation we had, even though I knew that I talked to her. It's a boy that I had seen across the aisle in church. I thought he was awesome 'cause he'd wear those tie things in his collar like country music singers wore before the 90s. This time around, it was a classmate. I finally found her picture in the obituaries, which was pretty good, considering that I only had an approxomate time of death, and only knew her first name. And looking at her picture... I still can't remember her. I don't remember hearing her say anything, I never talked to her, I don't remember her coming in early or late... just... nothing. The paper says she died "unexpectedly", but says nothing more than that. The professor said something about suicide, but it doesn't fit. But then... isn't it the ones that you don't notice?

That's my issue. That's why it's worse when it's someone that I didn't know. I have memories of my grandpa. I knew that he was miserable there at the end. I knew it was coming. I can remember the good times. I can tell the stories about him and his left handed pen pal.

But when it's someone I didn't know? It's like... I feel guilty about not knowing them. Especially like the guy from church. Because I had seen him. I did want to say that I liked those little collar things, but I never did. It would have been weird. You don't walk up to people and say stuff like that. I mean... when it's someone that I could have talked to, that I thought about talking to...

It's like I say. Maybe if I keep talking, nothing bad will happen. I mean, if it was suicide, chances are, one classmate wouldn't have made a huge difference. But you never know. I just don't like knowing that there was someone really near in proximity to me, and I never even saw them. That I have nothing to remember. Like some sort of footprint in the sand that'll go away with the next tide. I have this writerly need to know who the person was that made the footprint, so when the print is gone...

Yeah. Sorry if the whole sand thing was stupid. I'll just... yeah. I'll stop now. I sound crazy.