The other day I was looking through some old items and found a reminder of my first ever real girlfriend -- the one I lost my virginity too. Anyway, being the investigative type that I am, I went and searched her on Facebook. No sign, and no sign of her sister either.
I then used my ancestry.com account to look her up, and discovered she died 17 years ago - I couldn't be sure I had the right person, although cross-refererncing with her sister suggesting it was.
So asked some old friends if they knew anything -- and a mutual friend surfaced and confirmed it; she died in 2000 from a morphine overdose after spending many years fighting heroin addiction - she was 32.
Ironically, part of the failure in our relationship was my refusal to quit drugs - she left out of frustration, the break up sent me over the edge and a couple of years later I cleaned up my own act ... the last time I saw her she was just starting to use heroin and wearing her track marks like a badge of honour.
We met when I was 16, we were only together for a year and I haven't seen her since I was 19 - it's strange how sad feelings of grief can surface after so many years