Better to be silent

Why would one who claims me as one of his closest friends not say goodbye?

• He was lying?
• He was overcome by grief from my leaving?
• He’s dead and I don’t know about it?
• He didn’t get the message?
• He read the date wrong and thinks I’m leaving in February?
• His mobile phone fell in the toilet and the water erased all the data? (He didn’t have a back up of course)
• He got lost in a sandstorm when I sent the message and still hasn’t found his way out?
• He was abducted by aliens and they’re conducting tests to figure out what makes men tick?
• None of the above… he’s just an arsehole?

Why didn’t I call him to ask? Maybe because I know the reason he didn’t say goodbye. Maybe I have known the reason for a while, but since I can’t deal with that kind of stuff I was slowly pushing him away so he would never be able to say the words that I *think* were on his mind.

So if I couldn’t deal with it, why was I thinking about him a lot before I left? Was it nostalgia? Wondering what might have been if I wasn’t such a commitment-phobe? At the time I passed it off as that last bit of string you clutch onto when things are about to change… grasping as you fear what the next stage of life holds. I know there couldn’t have been anything between us, as a life partner, he was missing some of what I needed, what I want, what I’ve decided I deserve… if I can only let go of my fear of commitment.

So I’m going to leave it at that, if he ever shows up, making excuses, maybe even apologising for not wishing me well and a safe journey as even the most distant person in my life did, I’ll continue to hold him at arms length, saving us from the uncomfortable situation we’ll find ourselves in if he does ever tell me the truth.

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And I cried….

A friend of a friend committed suicide this week. He jumped off a roof and ended his life. Why?

Last month a friend of mine committed suicide. I don’t know how and I don’t want to. But why?

How can life mean so little to you that you could end it when you decide?

My friend was depressed. He’d been like that for years. As long as I can remember. Since we were in school. I hadn’t spoken to him for years. We all move on, our lives take us on different paths, to different continents, marriage and babies, new friends, new interests. But he was still my friend. Always in my heart. If I had seen him in any place he would have known me and I him. We would have hugged and kissed. Laughing and talking at once, shocked at the changes in us and eager to hear each other’s news. We would have reminisced about the past and the fun we had. We would have been happy. Or would we?

He was depressed. It spiralled out of control and nobody could do anything about it. Maybe he wouldn’t have been happy to see me. Depression makes you lock yourself away and hide from the world. Try to shut out the black thoughts in your head. Nothing makes you smile, nothing makes you happy. Not even seeing a friend from the past. I know. But at least I hope he would have been happy and we would have hugged and kissed. Laughing and talking at once, shocked at the changes in us and eager to hear each other’s news. We would have reminisced about the past and the fun we had. But that won’t happen now because he took his life.

My friend was so talented, kind, gentle, soft spoken and funny. Dry humour. Just the way I like it. He was an artist. He expressed himself in his art. We shared a love for music. I would have loved to show him my new life. I know he would have loved the Nile. He would have drawn me a picture and I would have done anything I could to stop him making the decision he did. We would have been happy. Or would we?

Rest in peace D. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and I’m sorry you couldn’t see how precious you were to the world and all that you could have given. I’m sorry that the only way you could find to deal with the pains of life was to leave. It could have been different. It should have been different. I’m sorry.

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