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To: Mandy Jo She called me her friend. She was one of the few. She saw in me things that no one else knew. I was backward and shy, a chess club bore. I had tape on my glasses. Need I say more? She was one of the “popular” kids at the school. But she crossed the line, broke an unwritten rule. Intrigued by her interest, seduced by her smile, she freshened my outlook and polished my style. She taught me to soar like an eagle would fly. I gave her a shoulder when she needed to cry. We promised that no matter where life would lead, we’d always “come running” if ever in need. She married a friend and moved far away. Her homesick heart was begging to stay. With nowhere to turn and no friends to find, she created a place to escape in her mind. With an inner-rebellion that raged deep inside, she barely resembled that beautiful bride. Her body was ravaged. A self-induced crime. She’d withered away in such a short time. She looked in the mirror and actually said, “I’m so over weight. I wish I were dead.” Prophetic words from the shell of a soul, who engaged in a battle and lost all control. As I ran down the hall to the emergency door, a shake of his head said, “She’s with us no more.” Anguish screamed out at this undeserved fate. My promise was broken. I’d shown up too late. I wanted to tell her but I was too scared. I’d practiced the words that never were shared. Why didn’t she stop? Why couldn’t she see? Why didn’t I help her like she had helped me? I saw in her things that no one else knew. She called me her friend, but it wasn’t true. In honor of Amanda Jo Abel (Carnegie) Unfortunately, this is a true story of a very dear friend of mine. Anorexia is a devastating and hard to understand disease. I do understand that there was nothing I could do, it doesn’t help. The memories of her beautiful spirit does. Thanks Mandy, I’ll see ya' someday.
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