If Only I Had Told Her
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Read between August 25 - August 27, 2025
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“The electrical burns went all the way up his arm. That’s what killed him, they said. From his hand through his arm to his heart, and that side of his face was—”
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“Sylvie told me that when she saw his face, she wished she had died too.”
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It seems so obvious now; it matters which people you spend time with, and it matters how you spend your time, because you don’t know how much you have.
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People are laughing or crying or talking, and they’re all going to die. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But they will die. Everyone they love will die too, and no one can stop it.
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The tiniest amount of electricity—just the right amount!—runs through each of us, but it will stop someday. We will rot or be burned, but we will be disposed of in some manner. We are all dead bodies that haven’t died yet.
abby
Damn jack
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I am alive. I’ve always been alive. But today I feel it.
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I want to ask him how they can talk about Finn being dead so easily, as if he’s been gone forever.
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Finn probably did one shitty thing his entire life, and it was cheating on Sylvie the day before he died. What could be gained by anyone knowing that Finn and Sylvie were breaking up that night? It’s probably easier for Sylvie this way.
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“Ask anyone. Finn lived for taking care of Sylvie. That’s probably why—”
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But it isn’t Maddie’s fault that I can’t cry like her or scream like Autumn or even tell all my Finn stories like Alexis, who is busy making sure no one hears about the one shitty thing that Finn ever did.
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I would laugh, but I can’t. All I can do is sit here, sip my beer, and listen to people who barely knew Finn talk about him as if they were friends. Finn isn’t here, and for a moment, I’m envious of him.
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I wish Finn could see this. The thought opens a new wound, because I wish Finn had known that this many people cared about him.
48%
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I feel so small. I’m too young for this to be happening. My best friend can’t be dead.
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For the first time, I wonder if I can do it tomorrow. Carry his coffin. Carry his body. Place it over a hole where it—he—Finn, will stay forever.
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I’ll go by the graveyard later and make sure he’s settled in.”
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Finn feels so alive with all these people here. It’s Autumn who is the ghost.
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His final resting place. His final everything. They’re about to do it.
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It’s not really him, yet it is him, and they’re putting him away forever. I want to beg someone to stop this, to let me keep him, please. But it’s done. Finn, my friend, is in a hole in the earth. For the rest of my life, no matter how long I live, I will always know exactly where he is, because he’s never going to move again.
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As the grave begins to slowly fill with dirt, I think of Autumn coming later, after the rest of us have gone, to be with him.
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“The good news is the doctors say it’s dissociative amnesia, not retrograde amnesia, which means that my not remembering the minutes before or after the accident isn’t brain damage. I’m protecting myself, according to them.”
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I look back as she drives us away from him, but I comfort myself remembering Autumn will come by later to see that Finn is settled in.
53%
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Why couldn’t he have stayed in the car? What did he think he was going to do? Save Sylvie with his bare hands? I mean, fine, this one time, we were watching a TV show, and he was all like, “That’s not how you do CPR.”
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Even if I can’t remember, it’s still my fault.
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It was the rain’s fault, I type and hit Send. She doesn’t reply.
56%
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If you took Autumn out of the equation, Finn would still be alive.
abby
Damn bro...
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“Autumn is having a hard time accepting the reality of the situation,” she says. “It’s not that she wouldn’t let me. It’s that…”
57%
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I put Finn’s jumper cables in my trunk and leave his gift for Autumn hidden under my driver’s seat, the way it had been hidden in his car. I can’t get rid of it. It tethers him to this world, but it’s also a symbol of how chasing her had killed him in the end. Autumn will be fine without it. Angelina said so.
58%
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It’s actually a very simple picture. She’s a really insecure girl who defines herself entirely by the people she surrounds herself with. Her friends are a collection, a planetary system she has built to rotate around her.
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Maybe my only real friend, I don’t know. But the fact that you compare your grief to mine? Or Sylvie’s?”
abby
GET HERRR
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“That’s the guy whose best friend—” And I’m done.
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“Like, what I’m trying to say is, everyone feels freaked. ’Cause if something like that could happen to Finn, it could happen to any of us.”
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Do I want to see Finn’s name or not? I wonder. Would it be nice to see evidence that not that long ago, he had a future, or would it simply be a reminder that the future was taken from him so recently? I won’t get a choice. Either his name will be there or not.
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Angelina would give anything to be in that woman’s position, yet she has the audacity to cry? It seems like such bullshit.
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I listen to Finn’s best of Tom Petty album with headphones until the light filtering in through the sheet goes out. I keep listening until I fall asleep.
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That’s mostly what I think about on the walk between classes or while eating alone at the dining hall—just how annoying Finn and Autumn would be if they were here together.
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Finn would have been making a conscious effort to not talk incessantly about the miracle of Autumn loving him, but I would have been rolling my eyes every time he’d catch himself from bringing her up. It would be mostly fine, and I’d be happy for him.
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For a few days, whenever I’m not in class, the fictional fight Finn and I would have had over Autumn if he were alive is my focus.
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Sometimes I imagine confronting him after he’s missed plans with me or because I’m tired of vacating to the library so he and Autumn can hook up. Obviously, whatever is going on, Autumn tries to stick up for Finn, but he always tells her no, he needs to work it out with me, so she leaves, and wherever we are on campus or in the dorm, it’s Finn and me and we’re arguing.
64%
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In this dream world where Finn is still alive, I wouldn’t have seen Autumn grieving.
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Late at night, I can’t distract myself by imagining how it would be if Finn were here. At night, I know that Finn is dead. Or do I? The thought still nags me, but what if it wasn’t really Finn? What if someone about Finn’s height and weight and wearing similar clothes stopped to help Sylvie, and he was the one who put his hand down in the puddle with the downed power line, and he’s the one in the gray box in the grave with his face burned off, not Finn. Maybe Finn hit his head, had amnesia, and wandered off. Except I know that’s not true.
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But Finn, the future doctor, ran to check Sylvie’s breathing and pulse. Ran to help her, because of course, that’s what Finn would do.
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Even if I can make myself believe that we buried someone else in Finn’s coffin by mistake, I cannot make myself believe that he would let any of us hurt like this. So Finn still isn’t here with me. And there’s not much else to say about college.
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Part of me doesn’t want to get better though. What will I have left of Finn when the hurt is gone?
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I still know Finn so well. Someday I won’t know him like this. I’m losing a bit of him each and every moment. Time is changing me. Nothing is changing Finn.
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Except I won’t figure out what it means for me if I keep thinking about Finn being here. Because he’s not. And that hurts. But it’s true.
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For Finn’s sake. Because he would want me to. I need to let myself accept his death. Breathe. And that hurts. But the truth hurts. I’ll just have to breathe through it.
66%
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It’s like the girl who sat down at my table. How can I think about going to a party or joining the running club when Finn is dead?
67%
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“The only person I’ve shared a room with before was Todd, my twin brother. He died when we were fourteen.” He wipes at his eyes.
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“It’s the kinda thing that never really leaves you, you know?” Brett says.
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“I’ve had four years to adjust, but whenever I hear you shift in your sleep or get up in the mornings, for a second, I think you’re him. So I’ve been icing you out. You’re this big reminder that he’s not here with me.”