We all have a romance with death, it's the scorning lover that takes our loved ones away, it's the compassionate lover that takes us in our final hours and it's the charming romancer that persuades us to our final hours earlier then one thinks.
We can never truly determine why the actions of others are taken. We can stress our lives, analyze and reanalyze time and again. We can make assumptions, a hypothesis, build studies and still never know the answer b/c we are not the one who took the actions, made the choice.
Recently a friend of mine took his own life, the impact hook me more then I expected. I'm not asking the thought that I could have prevented the death but I am, shall we say haunted by the thought of "was I part of the problem".
We are all troubled, some more so then others. The human psyche in all it's advancements has never been able to surpass mental troubles.
The day before the suicide I had brief text conversations with my friend, ending with an unanswered request for a coffee meet up. I in my own business did not respond to this message and know at times this person felt ignored by myself when leaving AIM messages for me when I have been away from my pc. Am I being selfish, egotistical to think that I may have been one of the many factors that contributed to this friend's actions? If I were a better friend would he of had more hope, more faith in humanity that would of prevented this early death?
I've been pondering this better person for sometime now. My personal trainer the other day jokingly called me a jerk, to which this comment lead me to old feelings of how dark, cold and bitter I once was. I started in my mind reviewing the actions of my own family and realized that I am following them in this path.
If I weren't broken, if I wasn't cold and distant would this text not have been written, if I were a better person, a better friend would my friend still be here?
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