The Past Year

It has been one year since I last saw his face. The times I saw him before that were not necessarily "fun," but they were times spent with a good friend. Tomorrow is the anniversary of his services, and I know the past couple days have been extremely difficult for me to handle alone. My significant other and I have briefly discussed this. She knew it would be on my mind and just told me to do whatever I needed, say whatever I had to say, if it made me feel better. After one year, I have learned that I still cannot put my finger on how I feel. It is excruciatingly difficult to decipher the man I knew who helped shape me into who I am from the man who I feel took the coward way out.

Now, staring your own death in the face is certainly one of the scariest things I could imagine. It is the great unknown you are about to willingly enter. It is the end to all the problems that may have plagued you the past year, or all your life. What makes this cowardly, in my opinion, is the willingness to accept finality rather than self evaluation. It is so conflicting because I know most of my friends would have considered him brave. Which at the same time is probably who he was able to do what he did, knowing his next move was his last. I have been at this road before, but the only thing that stopped me was fear of the unknown. If I had done it, I would never know the joys that would come later in life, even if I had to suffer for 10 more years.

I woke up early this morning. My internal clock still stays in work week mode, but that's okay. The only problem is I remembered one year ago today I was ironing my darkest colored clothes to drive through the snow covered streets, into a snow covered parking lot, knowing I would see all my friends, knowing I may be a sobbing mess in front of my friends.

When I heard the news of what he did, I tried to cry. I had trouble. My son came out of the shower and had a few minutes before bed that I promised him we could spend playing with Legos. I literally said goodbye to my informant friend and got down on the floor fighting back the tears. As I talked about my friend with my girlfriend, I couldn't even force tears if I wanted to. I was sad, relieved, angry, and sympathetic all at once.

I would be a liar if I say I haven't had these same thoughts over the past year. I picture him, every single day, laying in his casket. I picture crying over his body as I stood up there alone. I remember the conversations with some of my friends who I hadn't seen in a while confess their problems to me. I picture them sometimes in that casket, and regardless of how often I may have seen them since, it saddens me greatly and I fear seeing them there that one time.

I don't know how most of my other friends feel at this point. I know his ex wife and son will feel the impact forever. I think I may feel it forever as well, though I hope one day it doesn't consume every free second of thought in my day.

I have been fortunate to have a lot of joy in my life the past five years. Anything else negative that has come my way is just a slice of life that we all must deal with but never have to be defeated by. I have seen people get cancer and fight through it. I have lost other things in my life that hurt, and I have not been able to enjoy financial freedom for nearly a decade - but I have been able to find joy in my life. Most of that stems from me just learning how to pull myself back off a bridge, without needing anybody else to do so for me. Living for myself and being my best self, especially this past year and beyond, will keep me afloat, whether I have the largest family or none, a car or just a crummy pair of shoes, a house or just the clothes on my back. I have been in those situations. I got through them, whether they came when I was younger or older. I can only recall the things I learned from those episodes to not let something like my friend's suicide take me down.

But it does. It's the most confusing things in the world. Just when I get a great memory, it is replaced with anger. Just when I start feeling sad and like I can release the flood from my eyes at any moment, I get mad. When I think about bringing him up and his suicide to my friends, it rocks me and I fear that I may never be able to get off the topic.

I have tried very hard for the past year, to push him to the back of my mind. I started this blog to help me heal. I realize now that it is a loss that I will never replace. This isn't a divorce that I chose to never see somebody again. This wasn't deciding not to be friends with somebody else anymore. This was about his choice. I do feel sometimes that he felt I wasn't good enough to stick around and be friends with for the rest of our lives, but then I recall he was a son, a husband, a father - and now he is a memory. A memory that in order for me to hold on to the good, requires me to hold on to the bad. I will never take the last year I knew him to be who he is. It was just who he was. I wish his son could see the man he truly was, and why he was worth crying over.

My dearest friend, I miss you. I cherished our memories, and I will never forget you. In every way possible. Thanks for reading.