To the person I miss the most,

You showed up in my dream last night. I watched as your golden curls bounced around like they did when we were kids running around on the playground. We talked about our lives and everything that ever happened to us. You didn't hold any grudges over the horrible things that you suffered through. You were just happy like you were when you were alive.

It's been three years now. I'm a senior in college and I have a great life, filled with supportive friends and someone who will always be there to hold me when my world feels like it's falling apart. I spend my days in class, learning from caring professors and interacting with my peers.

A normal life.

After you got sick, you were faced with what your mom often referred to as "the new normal," filled with doctor's visits, chemotherapy, bone marrow transplants, and isolation. Through it all, your outlook on life never changed.

When you found out that you were going to die, you still said, "I just choose to be happy and live my life according to that."

I saw a girl in the bathroom today crying about the grade she got on her math test and wondered, "Do I sound like that when I get a bad grade? Am I so entitled that I can't handle a failure? Do I honestly believe that every paper I turn in deserves a 95?" The truth is, I've turned in my fair share of low-quality school work and it's more likely that this girl underperformed on her math test than it is that the professor failed her out of spite.

As I sat in the lobby waiting to meet my professor before class, I noticed a girl complaining about how her "unofficial, but basically official boyfriend" ignored her text from last night. She had neglected to prepare for class because of it. Seriously, why? The worst part is, I know I've done it too.

It's easy to find things to be upset about, but there are also so many reasons to be happy. And I would rather be happy.

Each dreaded 7:50 class, every useless assignment that I swear has nothing to do with what we're learning, and the cursed storm cloud that always seems to appear out of nowhere when I have a long walk back to my car and no rain jacket all have something in common. They are a reminder that I'm alive.

I'm here so I better make the most out of it. Happiness is a choice. I'm not happy simply because everything in my life is perfect and I never make mistakes. I'm happy because you taught me that there is no reason for me not to be.

Like you said, "My life is meant to be happy and that's what I'm gonna be."