I like the way you changed your name whenever you felt like it, and that you decided the “k” in your first name was lowercase even though it wasn’t that way on your birth certificate.

I like how brutally honest you were, even to your own detriment- when your kindergarten teacher told you she was going to report your bad behavior to your mom when she came to pick you up, you reminded her at the end of the day so she wouldn’t forget.

I like that you were kind to people- you used your own money to buy Easter baskets for your neighbors and wrote thank you letters to all of your teachers each year.

I like that whenever someone asked what you wanted to be when you grew up, you said “a lifeguard” because you liked being by the water and wanted to be able to save people.

I like the way you wrote a short story, complete with a table of contents, publishing info, and acknowledgement, about how much you hated chickens and gave it to your first grade teacher as a gift.

I like the way you experimented with “fashion,” whether that was your mom’s old skirts or tying a scarf around your waist. I wish I could be more like you; you were always true to yourself and didn’t care what anyone else thought.

I like that you didn’t notice you were poor- you wore taped-up shoes to school with pride, and while your classmates went on vacations and to summer camp, you went to work with mom and spent your days relishing the AC and free Wifi, and to you that was the best thing in the world.

I like that you were able to take refuge in your own mind. I remember when you were at the playground, you must have been about 5, and a young man asked you what you were thinking about. You said, “I’m thinking my favorite thoughts.”

You didn’t tell him that you were born with your favorite thoughts, but you added to them over time.

That they stayed in the back of your brain and when you needed them you unrolled them like a tape measure, grabbing each one until they ran out.

That you needed your favorite thoughts, because your rich inner world meant you didn’t always do a great job of expressing yourself on the outside, so the other kids shied away from you and called you weird.

But when you accessed your favorite thoughts, the outside world didn’t matter .

When you were in your own world, you were at peace.

I wish I could take some of your fear
And spread it out on the earth
Let it sit awhile
Until it dissipates
Under the glow of the sun

I wish I could help you find
The life that exists beyond the small gray car
On the Ohio interstate
Heading straight into darkness.

I wish I could tell you
It’s not too late
To reenter the world of light
One babystep at a time

And the suffocating darkness will soon fade
But you have to keep up the fight
Because that hell isn’t real
But the hell you create for yourself can be
It will bury you, consume you
Forever if you let it

I wish I could help you see
That who you are- and aren’t- is not
A problem or a sin
It’s as human as the dirt under your fingernails,
The feeling of raindrops on your skin
That you are the sun, you are full of light
Please don’t ever forget it.

I still don’t have the answers
I don’t know what’s right or true-
But I’ve learned to sit with the darkness
And someday you will too.

So please, let me sit with you
So you won’t feel so alone
And I can hold some of your fear
Until you’re ready to hold it on your own.