I love that this is someplace that I can come and write.
I love that I have so many friends both in real life and not, that come here to read.
I hate that I feel like there are some things that are off limits.
I hate that I feel stifled and unable to freely talk.
That said. Someone close to me wrote a suicide letter tonight. I knew it would come to that. I knew that he was hurting and lost. I have felt a bit resigned as I've come to deal with this coming threat. and yet. when I heard that it was real and written it hurt. It burns me and I'm filled with guilt as a non participating witness to it all. And the reasons for me being in the bleachers is my own doing. I should have been more present. available. understanding. caring. loving.
But it can be draining and all of the reasons he's suicidal are exhausting and could be endless.
When he got to the store to buy a gun he only then realized that he forgot his wallet and as fate would have it when he got home, someone else had returned and found the note and had already called 911.
He's safe now. He's at the hospital where they will try and clear his mind a bit. but he's quiet. and calm. and the fight is out of him. He's now resigned and wants to go.
His note said that he loved them. his wife. left them both with the only things that he loved.
I'm sad that he is sick. I'm sad that he feels hopeless. I'm sad that I've done nothing to help him. I'm sad that he's sad.
I hope he finds what he needs and can live. happily.
I need him to live. I need him to know that I love him. I need him.