Matthew died on July 12, 2007 in the afternoon. He was 19 years old. I wasn't legally supposed to know about him. He didn't know me. He had been hospitalized for mutliple stab wounds in vital organs from a run-in with some gang members in Oakland. He had many infections, and the flesh on his lower back rotted from his laying in a bed for weeks. He was in the hospital for about two months before he died. He had a brother named Garret. His family visited him normally and were thankful for the nurses' care.
If I could say one thing to him, I would recite a prayer from Les Miserables: "Take my hand and lead me to salvation/Take my love, for love is everlasting/And remember the truth that once was spoken/To love another person is to see the face of God."
It's an odd thing to love someone you've never met, but I guess I'm particularly good at it, what with Erik and all. ttyl!
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