When we were wintergirls

My Wintergirl (Final Chapter)

My classmates bolted for the door as I sat in shock.
A book lay on the desk before me. The cover read
"Wintergirls, by Laurie Halse Anderson"
Water droplets fell onto the cover. I hadn't noticed I'd been crying.
I dropped the book into the return bin and floated, stuck in a dreary daze out the door. I stared at the walls the rest of the day. From class to class. I don't even know how I made it to each one, as out of it as I was. I knew what I had to do, what the book had shown me that I needed to to if I was to make it out of this alive, but I wasn't strong enough to do that. I had known that she was tearing me down for a long while. She had me in the very palm of her hand, and I was okay with that. She was falling and dragging me down with her.
I thought it would be a beautiful way to fall.
The book had shown me that I was wrong. It showed me what happens when you let one sad person become your entire life. In the book she had saved herself. I didn't know if I had enough time.
There's never enough time.
I knew couldn't save her, but I think I knew that from the beginning. I knew that when we met.
I told myself that I could be her hero, but I think somewhere I knew that I just liked watching her fall.
She was my best friend, and I loved her, but I knew that this could never end well for either of us. This race to the finish line was killing us slowly, but faster all the time.
I couldn't watch her destroy herself.
That night, in my bed, I cried for her. I hated myself for her. I should have/would have/could have saved her, but I knew that wasn't true. I lost my girl on a heroine sea, in which I'd never learned to swim. I just floated back to the shore before it swept me under, just in time to see her disappear beneath the waves.
I'm sorry wintergirl. I'm sorry that I made myself forget you. I'm sorry that we all did. We made that silent pact the forget the girl with the dead eyes and the brown hair. The girl tucked away so neatly inside my heart, that I almost forgot her, until I need her to remind me of what I'm fighting for. Until I need her to remind me that I can't give up.
Please, don't ever give up.
She never asked me for help, not once. But on that day I watched her get swept out to sea, I saw fear in her eyes as she reached for me and whispered
"Help"
As I reached for her hand, just as our fingertips met, a wave came crashing down, and I lost my wintergirl in the sea.
Screaming for her, I fell to my knees.
I always knew she wouldn't make it, because she didn't want to make it.
I'm so sorry.
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(six months later)
I didn't think of her often, I couldn't afford that. When I did think of her, though, my head swarmed with memories and regret, and sadness. I missed my wintergirl more than I missed the ability to stay sober for longer than 24 hours without wanting to die or stop eating. I missed my wintergirl more than I missed looking into a mirror without vomiting.
I miss my wintergirl more than I miss the snow.
One cool fall day, I couldn't stop thinking about her. I didn't know how to get her out of my head. She was tormenting me. I cried, but that wasn't enough. I had a story to tell.
So I began to write a story that day, I'm sure most of you have heard of it.
It was called
When we were wintergirls.