Jonathan Lorino was murdered this afternoon. He was a person that I never knew extremely well, but I did know him to be witty and intelligent. He was one of the few openly gay students at my all male Catholic high school, which made him pretty unpopular by default (imagine hundreds of homophobic and testosterone charged Christians). This last fact was the reason why I respected him so much. He put up with an incredible amount of hatred and adversity, but still managed to keep a smile on his face.

As news of his death spreads through the campus and the city, I can't help but mourn. But I am not crying. I don't know if it is anger or numbness; Jonathan is the FOURTH of my classmates to die in the last three months. This is surreal. It is scary. I feel an urgent need to call every guy from the Jesuit Class of '99, just to have a cup of coffee or something mundane. Life is short. I have to hurry before everyone I know from high school is dead.