19. You were 19. 19. Should have been the time of your young life. 19. You'll never make 20. 19. You and Jess were the youngest. 19. You two were the first to die. Let me tell you the reader some advice; don't let those you love slip out of your hands without them knowing how much they mean to you. Life gets to points where it becomes unbearable and sometimes we just can't stop ourselves from being upset over every little thing because of one accident, tragedy or just event. I have spent years and years patting myself on the back for avoiding the inevitable losses, hiding behind that 'strong' trait. I never took into account that true strength is knowing when to let yourself cry and letting people see that you are in fact a human. Instead of taking those who you cherish in your life for granted, write them. Tell them that You love them, how much they mean. My friend was only nineteen years old when he crashed into a pillar on a highway. He was the second youngest in our little group growing up; he and Jess meant the world to all of us. Now there's three of us left, and none of us talk much anymore. I didn't get the chance to tell Trev how much I cared because I got caught up with my own life. I lost contact with his sister after a horrible spat in high school, and I guess we both sort of forgot. I just got the news a few days ago about Trev's death; he died last year and I had no idea. I wish that I could have gone to his memorial. I wish I could have sucked up my pride and apologized before it was too late. I wish that I could have told Trev how much he meant to me, how much all of them did. Love like you've never loved before and don't hesitate on telling those who mean something to you that you are still there and that you still care; you might not get a second chance.