A couple of months ago I learned that one of my old friends had committed suicide. I've been wanting to write about it for a while, but I've had neither the words nor the inclination.
The whole thing upset me a great deal. First of all, I hadn't spoken to this friend, a girl whom I had dated, since I became engaged to be married back in 2004. I believed that she still had feelings for me and, out of respect for my wife, I distanced myself from her. I would like to say that it was difficult for me to let go of the relationship, but it wasn't. That is not to say that I did not have a strong affection for my friend. Though I no longer harbored romantic feelings toward her, we shared one of the closest and most unique friendships that I have ever had. So, when I googled her a couple of months ago and found a memorial page, I was shaken.
I contacted some of her friends and found out that she had committed suicide a month after we stopped talking. A number of questions raced in my head. Did the end of our relationship lead her to commit suicide? What if I had not ended our relationship? What if we had gotten back together? I felt a number of emotions as well. Guilt for ending our relationship. Sorrow at losing a friend. Sadness that she would not get to experience the joy of having a child.
I thought about death. Since I abandoned Christianity, I have avoided the topic of religion, and the finality of her death was terrible. For the first time, I was confronted with the death of a friend my own age.
I was extremely depressed for about a week, but I slowly began to move on. Now, two months later, I have stopped thinking about her on a daily basis. Still, when I see girls who resemble her, I hope that, somehow, it has all been a bad dream - that she is still living in Boston and making people laugh with her crazy humor.
I worry that there will come a day on which none of us think of her, and perhaps that's the saddest irony. She committed suicide because she felt invisible and alone, and now she is.