She is the song you have to play just one more time. The song you sing over and over in your mind. The one you start singing for no reason in particular. The one you never forget. I craved her energy, her passion, her very spirit. She sparked a fire in me. I can still feel that look in her eyes.

I met Stevie at a folk festival while vacationing in southern Texas. When I left New York City, I had no idea what to expect and certainly had no idea I would fall in love. Stevie was a beautiful, young woman with a razor-sharp intellect and the free spirit of a child. She could look into my soul and touch me in places I had never been touched before.

After I returned home, not a day went by that I didn't call or email her. Stevie was such a breath of fresh air and I was totally in love with her. I expressed my love for her the best way I knew how; by writing countless songs about her.

I bought her a guitar for her birthday because she had mentioned that she would love to learn to play. Stevie really took to it and even began writing her own music. She was simply irresistible when she sang. She surprised me with a CD of her singing original songs dedicated to me. She also recorded Bob Dylan's "Blowin' in the Wind" on that same CD. No one had ever given me such a heartfelt gift.

Stevie took a leap of faith and moved to New York. She found an apartment and a job, and even made plans for college. How together she seemed for such a young woman. Especially since I knew she carried a lot of pain with her; the pain of sexual and physical abuse as a child. She also grew up never really having a home. Her natural mother was institutionalized several times. The abuse left scars on her heart that never quite healed. I loved her and wanted her to get help. Ironically, when she did seek help, things began to unravel.

Her introspection and bipolar diagnosis caused her to reevaluate some very basic foundations in her life. Maybe the isolation she felt from an insane childhood with a mother who had a borderline personality prevented her from fully receiving the love I offered. Maybe it was just too scary for her to be in love with so much darkness in the background. So many maybes. No answers.

Not long after she began therapy, we sprung for a vacation in Lake Tahoe, where Stevie bought me some beautiful skis. We had an incredible time, like a couple on their honeymoon. Lots of skiing, lots of making love on the snowy white mountains. It was one of the most incredible experiences I've ever had. The night before we returned to New York, she told me she was not coming home with me. She was miserably torn between her love for me and her need to be in Texas.

She went back to Texas, but was barely there one day before telling me it was a mistake. I was tired of the emotional roller coaster, so when she moved back to New York, we started off as friends. Stevie stayed with me while she looked for a new apartment. I slept on the couch, while she slept in the bed. Our platonic relationship made her incredibly angry and we fought all the time.

One night, after several hours of screaming, I left. But something felt strange to me, so after taking a walk, I went back home.

I found her lying in my bed. She had tried to overdose on bipolar medication, about sixty ephedrine-based pills, and a bottle of wine. She left a note that said life wasn't worth living without me and that she loved me dearly.

I rushed her to the hospital. She was there for forty-five days and no one in her family came to see her. I saw her every day, and eventually she asked me to stop coming. She didn't realize that I still loved her dearly. So even though I knew she probably didn't mean it, I honored her request.

The night Stevie was released she came over. She was upset and I was terrified. There at my door was the woman I loved, and the woman who tried to kill herself in my bed. I was confused and would not let her in. So we sat in the hallway and talked.

I told her to reconnect with herself, to take walks in the park, to meditate, to do some soul-searching. I told her that even if she had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, medication was only part of the solution. She was still going to have to work through things. I told her I couldn't be there for her anymore.

I wish to God I could change those words. I wish I would have opened my arms and held her all night long. I wish I wouldn't have been so self-protective that I couldn't help someone who was so clearly crying out for help.

Two days later she killed herself in the bathroom of a New York City hotel. I had a memorial for Stevie in Strawberry Fields, the John Lennon tribute in Central Park. Stevie loved Lennon. I drank Orangina, her favorite soft drink, played songs, lit candles, and told her spirit things I wish I would have said to her when she was still alive.

I often listen to the CD she made me. An overwhelming love for her comes over me when she sings "Blowin' in the Wind.” I even used her voice on a recording of one of my songs called “Unreality.” The line asks the question, "How many deaths will it take ‘til he knows that too many people have died?"

Every time I hear her ask that, I feel as though she is speaking to me. My answer is always, "Just one, Stevie, just one."

Erik Hendin
Stevie’s Boyfriend

Stephanie “Stevie” Louise Miller
Eighteen Years Old

“Disappear”

Sometimes I wish I was a child again
I’d play all my days away
Build my Lego blocks into something
Walk proud of that something
I know my castle would never disappear
Disappear
Sometimes I wish you weren’t so innocent
And so sensitive to everything
Softest hair and deep brown eyes
Drowning there behind your smile
At some point you decided not to try
Think I’ll never be the same
I have to find a way to change
I don’t know how to face today
The only one who ever really knew you
You said I was the only one who understood
Damned me to hell for my whole life
To sit and think about how you died
And how I played a part in all of it
Think I’ll never be the same
I have to find a way to change
Make some meaning of the mess you made
Here I’m left to clean it up
And it’ll never be enough
I loved you more than you ever knew
Forever with nothing I can do
I’ll never have another chance to tell you
To tell you
Two days before love suicide
Bangin’ on my door for help
One a.m. – I was so surprised
I tried to protect myself
And I would never see you again
Sometimes I wish I was a child again
I’d play all my days away
Those days are long long gone
Now I live with this alone
I thought my castle would never disappear
Disappear

Erik Hendin
from his CD “Long Journey”

www.erikhendin.com