For love is strong as death.

Dear Mr. Horyn,

I don't even know where to begin. It's been a while since we've talked in person, and I regret that so much now. I know I'm not the only one of your former students who wishes I could have just one more class with you.

Confession time: my senior year, I signed up for Creative Writing because I figured it was an easy, joke of a class (although I was elated when I found out that you were teaching it, because I had heard so many wonderful things about you!); while that class with you was anything but a "joke", you had us all roaring with carefree, comfortable laughter every session. You just had a way of bringing out the best in your students, especially when it came to writing. I remember rediscovering my love of writing in that class, after spending years stuck in a five-paragraph-claim-evidence-warrant rut. You made me believe that I was a good writer, and as cliche as it sounds, it's nice to feel like you're good at something that you enjoy doing. I also loved your messages of "rebellion", and while I never took GAW, I absolutely loved participating in many of my friends rebellion projects. Seriously, that project is exactly what my generation needed.

I remember at the end of the semester, when I was getting ready to graduate, you encouraged me to continue writing creatively after high school. Well, my desire to write outside of classwork is what eventually led to this blog, so I have you to thank for all of this.

Why someone as spirited and full of life as you should die at such a young age is beyond us all, but I hope it brings you joy to look down and see all of the lives you've changed for the better. So for you, Mr. Horyn, and for so many others who have lost their lives due to this ugly disease, I promise to fight for the extinction of cancer, and to never, not even for a second, conform.

Love,
Kenz