"What am I gonna say when I see G-d? I was framed." Benicio Del Toro The Way of the Gun

So I open the mail this morning to find out a girl I went to high school with is dead. I don't know how, or honestly, even when, although I do know it probably occured sometime in the last two years. It might even have been september eleventh. So odd, to think that we were in the same city and didn't even know it. I run into people I went to high school with on occassion. It's been a while since the last time. I'm sure you think I shouldn't be so upset about it. I mean, if I was so out od touch with her, I shouldn't really care. But I do. She wasn't supposed to die. She was suppose to come to our ten year anniversary this summer and make me feel all depressed with everything that she had accomplished. She was supposed to have a good life, because she was a good person. I'm not just saying that because she is dead. Even when she was alive, or when I thought she was alive, if you had asked me about her I wouldn't have been able to come up with anything bad. I remember that she couldn't sing on key to save her life, that she sang more on key with headphones on than when they were off. I remember that she was knock kneed and pigeon toed. I remember that she always had dark brown roots in her blonde hair. I remember her taking our chinese food order at school, she always organized the orders.I remember obsession with becoming the wife of some italian mobster, she could tell you anything about the mob. I remember when she went out with Eric K, back when he was stylin' himself to be a big Jewish producer, complete with cigar, camel hair coat, and bad attittude towards women. I remember the rumor that she had sex with him in the lighting booth of the theater. (Her among many many others-not myself-I preferred fooling around in the dressing rooms. I liked the mirrors.) I hadn't spoken to her since graduation. I don't think she came to Ryan's reunion party the year after we graduated. Or maybe it was two years after we graduated.She wasn't supposed to die. She was supposed to come back and bitch about things, and talk to us, all of the NEO rats about the old times. About the shows we were in together (The Knight of the Burning Pestle-oh the humiliation!), the cast parties, the old scandal. She was supposed to come back so we could snark about Martha and Jon's relationship. She was supposed to come back so we could all of, the whole damn gang, go back to the NEO and remember. Remember Rohit, Chris (juggling), Eric, Jon(I am a sensitive artist), Perchik, Martha, Steve (the most republican looking head banger ever-trips to wendy's), Trevor (good backrubs-scary guy-who told me when he graduated that he wanted to,um, fuck me in half ), even scary "Jesus loves you" Jon H the girlfriend abuser, Rob (who now has gone back to teach at my old high school-which I think, in a way, is totally pathetic) Cary S., Leigh, Jessica (of the giant legs? rememeber the Dark of the Moon video? also a shutterbug) Cary D. (the clydesdale), Adam (I was an extra in Scent of a Woman!), Gold (the only guy who could make me blush on command), Chris S (who "christened" the bathroom wall during a rehearsal for Dark of the Moon), Ryan (Mr. Ed), and many others who I'm sure I am forgetting. But we were all supposed to go back. We were all supposed to make it this far and impress the hell ouut of each other and promise to have lunch and never call. We were suppose to talk about what a great time it was, even though ti felt like hell when we were going through it. We were supposed to have our picture taken together, just like the picture I have of our graduation. She wasn't supposed to be missing.
And this just reaffirms that even more there is justice to the universe. No matter how you look at it. Because so many people who make no use of their lives, who are totally ungrateful, who only use their existence to hurt others are allowed to run amok. They survive. And people like Sara die. And there is no rationalization. There is no looking for the bright side. There is only complete and and utter unfairness.And a horrible guilt. That I should have called and should have stayed in touch and should have enjoyed her more when she was around. I should have known when she died instead of getting a completely anonymous update from my high school. I should have known. I should have known.