An Old Friend Gone January 17, 2010

There are quite a few things I want to write about that have happened the past month or so.  Initially I was going to just do one long update but it really would have been too long.  Hopefully I’ll get most of the updates done this week!

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I found out last week that a guy I was involved with in high school committed suicide.  It has hit me *really* hard.  It was a complete fluke that I even found out.  A song came on my iTunes that I always made him dance to (“Safety Dance”…it was the funniest thing ever) and it reminded me of him.  So, I looked him up on facebook.  No dice.  Drugs were one factor in why we quit seeing each other so I looked him up in the court database thing.  He was in there for a number of things (none of which were serious).  I learned he had a kid because there was some child support stuff.  Then I saw the one where his mom was appointed executor of his estate.  I quickly googled his name and found his obit.  I busted out bawling.  I’m so glad my sister wasn’t home.  It had a picture of him…he looked just like I remember him.  I found out he had a wife.  All the obit said was that he died in his home.  24 year olds don’t just die in their home so I knew something was up.  After much, much searching I finally found a short article saying that the Sheriff’s department ruled it was a suicide (by gunshot).  I’ve known for a week, haven’t seen him in 6 years, and I’m still crying as I write this.

I wrote his mom a note.  I told her I’d just found out and that I was sorry for her loss, that I remember him being a sweetie with a kind heart and a gentile soul.  I told her that I wished we’d been able to find a way to stay friends and that I’d thought about him often over the past 6 years [I can't believe it's been that long!].  This past summer while looking through some boxes at my parents, I found a poem he’d written me.  I told her that I still had it and that her son was quite the poet, something I’m sure she wasn’t aware of.  And I told her that wrapped around the bedpost of my bed at my parents is the bracelet he’d given me one Christmas (though his mom had bought it for me without even telling him beforehand, lol).  She had to have written me back the same day she got my card.  I was grateful for the details she included in her note.  His wife left him almost a year ago.  He’d moved in with his mom and step dad for a few months and had been out on his own again for several months.  She nor any of his friends had any idea he was that depressed.  I could tell she absolutely adores her granddaughter.  His daughter came from a short-term relationship 3 years ago.  She spends one weekend a month with them, which they are very thankful for.  She asked me to stop by if I’m ever in the area.  I know she meant it.  My mom said I should.  I kind of want to.  But I know I’ll bust out in tears as soon as I see her.  Just thinking about it is making me cry right now all over again.  I don’t want it to end up with her comforting me, that’s not the way it’s supposed to go (though my logical self knows it would be therapeutic for both of us and I know my presence would be a comfort to her too).

His mom & step dad loved me.  Even though he and I never had an official relationship (think friends with benefits more than boyfriend/girlfriend), we would always chill in the living room and talk to them on our way up to his room.  Or sometimes I’d have coffee with them in the morning before I left.  They felt I was a good influence on him.  And, I was.  I was very different from his other friends who were pretty much a bunch of losers (though fun losers most of the time).  He was an extremely bright guy.  He knew so much but never applied himself – never really had much motivation to make something of himself.  I had goals and aspirations and plans for college.  He was still working the same dead-end job he was when I last saw & talked to him 6 years ago.  I saw his potential.  I think that’s what’s killing me right now.  I’ve thought about him so many times over the years, so many times.  Always fondly.  And I’ve been tempted to contact him countless times.  Not because I still wanted him in a romantic way but because he was a good guy, a good friend.  He was the type that would do anything for his friends (and no, I’m not sugar coating things, I don’t believe in re-characterizing someone just because they’re dead).  I enjoyed the time I spent with him.  But, I never reached out.  What if I would have called?  Would anything have been different?  Could I have saved him?  (How egotistical! lol) The logical part of me knows it wouldn’t have changed anything, but my heart still wonders.

He wasn’t perfect.  I went to see him one weekend when I came home from college my freshman year.  It was different.  We were different.  We used to lay in bed for hours (literally) just talking but I was off at college and he was doing the same thing he did when we were in high school.  We lived in two totally different worlds.   He’d lost a lot of weight.  He was proud of his weight loss but I missed the slightly chubby boy I’d had before.  I especially didn’t like it when I found out drugs (more than just pot) were the reason he’d lost weight.   And, he refused to wear a condom.  That hadn’t really been an issue before because I was the only girl he’d been with.    I refused to sleep with him.  We both rolled over so our backs were to one another and went to sleep.  That was the end of it – there was no real anger or bitterness; it just was.  I don’t even remember if he was awake when I left the next morning.

I really have no idea what kind of man he became.  And I don’t know if I loved (in a friend way) him for who he was or for who I knew he could be.  Probably a little of both.  I hope he knew how much our time together meant to me, but I don’t think he did.  That kills me.

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