about how your life -- beautiful and precious -- needed to be guarded and loved, but because evil spilled through, the darkness became too much. No, I am not talking about your parents (for I know they loved you), or your therapist you shared your personal thoughts with, or even God. I am talking about the kind of love friends learn to grow and share with one another -- that special and specific kind of love we all need when shit hits the fan, and we feel we have nowhere else to turn. What you endured was not love, and you knew that the whole time. You cried out for help, and perhaps help did come. Yet with the help came more grief from 'friends' online. I can't imagine the weight of it all on your small shoulders. People are making comments, Amanda -- who's to blame? What now? How do we stop bullying? I don't really want to use your life and death as a cautionary tale for others right now, hun. You're too important and the loss of you is too great. What I do want to say is... if I knew you... I'd hope we could chill and do our nails. Maybe we could catch an indie flick and chat about it over chai lattes at a sweet coffee house afterwards. Maybe we could talk about life, love, friends, God and all things that matter when you're 15 years old. Maybe we could take silly pictures in