Eulogy part 2

Isaac Mendez was quite something. And I say this in the most flattering of ways. I truly do not know where to begin in describing Isaac, in describing his life. Isaac was, above everything else, an artist. He loved creating beautiful things, and he did it very well. It brought out a sort of passion in him that is a rare find these days. The works of Isaac Mendez were something special. Ranging from realistic paintings of dying cheerleaders to snappy comic-type sketches, his art was as varied and fascinating as the man behind them. Isaac lives on through these glorious works of art, as they help guide us through our lives and let us see what is in store for the world.
Aside from being the talented young painter that he was, Isaac was many other things. He was a very special man. He possessed one of the most interesting and helpful abilities known to man. He could paint picutres depicting the future, a skill which turned out to come in handy to many a folk. He struggled at first, because he found that he was unable to access this ability without the help of drugs, but he worked hard, determined to overcome this, and eventually succeeded. Yes, it is a sad fact that Isaac had that darker part of his life, but he was able to overcome that, too, trying and trying and trying some more to free himself from life as a junkie.
And then there was Simone. Let her rest in peace. Isaac cared about Simone more than he knew how to say. He kept her in a special place in his heart, even through the toughest of times, even when she had no faith in him and turned to another man for comfort, and even when she sadly passed away.
Isaac, oh Isaac. How we miss you so. How we wish to seek revenge on your killer. And we, dear friend, shall not stop until we succeed.
But it's important to concentrate on the happy times. Like how you always had a joke up your sleeve when it came to Simone and her foolishness. How you were the most determined young man I have stumbled upon in my many years. How it is because of you, Isaac, YOU, that the New York City explosion did not happen. You always said how you wanted to be a hero. Well, you were very heroic, young man. You fought the good fight, and that's all that could be asked of you.
Oh, were you oh so wise. Your last words were those of someone four times your age, and how you had so much perspective is anybody's guess.
Isaac, Isaac, Isaac. Your name can not be repeated enough. Your best moments, though I have watched them countless times, cannot be watched enough. So all I have to say is this: Where are you? Where are you, Isaac? Please come back to us. Life has no meaning, without you.
And so, Isaac, all I really have left to say is how I miss you so, and how I hope you are happy, wherever you are.
Love,
Kara S.