something for a dead friend

When you know suicide, when it's familiar, and you hear that a friend passed that way, the deep sick feeling somehow approaches comforting. I don't want to be numb. I'd rather feel.


I'm sorry, man. I'm really sorry. I coulda done something more. I feel like I don't - didn't - know you well enough to resent you for leaving me, but I want you to know that I feel it. The loss. Personal, collective, alladat.

You matter, you mean something, you were someone I wanted to see more of. Everyone on your wall felt that way too.

It wasn't worth it. I know that's presumptuous, but I can't put myself there, I can't empathize because I don't want to be there on the ledge, I want all the regret I feel to pull you back here.

You know when we were talking about the 'larger scale'? It's hard. It's really hard. Difficult to function on those levels, like you said. So I get it a little bit, but I don't want to. I don't want to at all. I'm never gonna think that this was the right time.

You were a good person. Not too good, not the way we rationalize when people leave too soon. You were good, and you deserved to be happy, content even.

I'll miss you.