The other day I was wondering what you were doing but then I remembered you were gone. I can’t believe it’s been
seven years, e ight years, nine years, ten years, eleven years, twelve years, thirteen years since you left us so early. Even though we didn’t always get along, I loved you like a sister.
It’s not surprising, we had known each other since preschool. Our moms were great friends. We would spend Christmas Eve at your house and get a personal appearance from Santa Claus.
I even remember being at your house when they debuted Michael Jackson’s video, Thriller. Your mom was peeking through her fingers the entire time. As you got older, you grew your hair long. It was the most beautiful brown hair I have seen.
You were at my wedding but I was so overwhelmed with people that I never got a chance to say hello. I’ve seen my wedding video and watched as you stood aside while I greeted people. There is so much guilt I feel because of that.
You moved out of the small town where we lived. I had moved away several years before. You got married but by then we had lost touch. I would always ask my mom how you were.
I’ll never know what led you to take your own life on that day in November. Your mom has never recovered. Nobody will be the same. The shock of it was with me for months and then disbelief set it. It has been with me since.
I was never angry at you but I wish you would have talked to someone, anyone. I still can’t accept that you are no longer here, even after thirteen years. I will still catch myself, wondering what you’re doing.
*National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8288