‘What do I want to be when I grow up? Mr. D, that seems to be a very heavy question for someone my age. Life is hard and adults are always telling us ‘kids’ that it just gets worse as time passes. I’ve been trying my best to understand what keeps people going, what keeps them reaching for something greater in this world. Belief? Hope? Passion?

“‘I’m gay, Mr. D. I’ve never said those words to a teacher, but the way you walked into class on the first day with so many nerves made me realize that I can trust you. You’re just as afraid of some secret as I am. So I thought I would share my secret with you. But my sexuality shouldn’t define me, right? There’s so much more to me. I like thunderstorms. I love baseball. I think rock music is the best music. I have blue eyes. I hate peas. My blood bleeds red and my heart cries sometimes, just like yours, I suppose.

“‘You know what I can’t understand? I can’t understand how the people who are meant to love you unconditionally are the ones who turn on you in a heartbeat. Lately, I had to convince myself that it wasn’t me who she turned on, it wasn’t me who she blamed for Dad’s death—she loves me. I know she does. She just can’t comprehend the different ways that love can work. Ways only us teenagers can grasp before the land of adulthood takes away our magic, our wonder. Being a teenager is a curse and a gift. It’s the age where fairytales cease to exist and Santa isn’t real but parts of our hearts want to say ‘What if…’

“‘It’s the time where you feel everything but everyone claims you are just overreacting. You and the guidance office and society throw out strong questions that we teens have no clue how to answer. Who are we? Where do we see ourselves in five years? What do we want to be? The most frightening thing to me is picking a study, choosing a life path to follow at such a young, naïve age. No one knows who they are at our age. No one has a damn clue where they will be in five years. The last question is my favorite: What do we want to be? That’s the easy one.’” Daniel paused and looked over to me, quoting the last part of Ryan’s powerful letter.

“'Alive. I want to be alive, and I have no idea why, seeing how hideous life is at times. Maybe it’s belief, hope, and passion all wrapped into one shape that rests inside my chest. Perhaps my heart is just praying for better tomorrows to replace all of those shitty yesterdays. So to answer your question in a very depressing, teenage-angst manner, I want to be alive when I grow up. So now I ask you, Mr. D. What do you want to be when you grow up? Because growing never stops, and dreaming rarely ceases.’”