I sat on the cold, hard floor, slowly rocking back and forth. Was it really possible for all of this to happen? Just a few hours ago, he was sitting by me, holding my hand. We had gone to the beach and spent hours talking, playing, and having fun. How is it fair that he had his life ripped away from him, mere moments after he said he had loved me? We were strolling down a road, as a car swerved towards us. He had pushed me out of the way, yet he wasn’t quick enough to save himself. That drunk driver had murdered him. How am I supposed to live without him? He was only 17 years old, how is it fair that he was taken away from the world so soon? He had his entire life left! I cried piteously, sobbing for hours on end. The days slowly dragged by, and the grief of losing him slowly began eating away at me. All I could feel was sadness for losing him, and anger for the drunk driver, for murdering the love of my life. The scene of the accident kept flashing through my mind, along with all the memories of moments we had shared together. Questions swirled through my head, where is he now? Is he happy where he is? And the hardest question of all, does he still remember me? All I hoped for was that he would be happy, even if he didn’t remember me. I know if he were in my place and I was in his, he would wish for the same. As time went by, I still hadn’t returned to my normal self, being haunted by his memories the entire time. One day I had gone to the beach, hoping to wash away some of my worries, yet I had gone too far into the water. I was struggling for breath as I tried to push my head above the water. And suddenly, at the time when I had lost all hope, I felt myself being pushed up. And for just a second, I thought I saw him, right next to me. He smiled one of his dazzling smiles, and left as quickly as he had come. As I swam back to the shore, thankful to be alive, I had realized, he was still there with me the entire time, watching over me. And so I knew, he was still there for me, and he had never left me.