Tuesday, July 15, 2014


One of my best friends killed himself last week. I'm still reeling, and I honestly don't know what to do except write about it. It feels so woefully deficient, talking about loss and a depth of feelings that can never be accurately described in words. I thought "heartbroken" was a euphemism, but I really feel like something inside has been savaged beyond repair. There's a hole in my life in the the shape of Dave, and I don't know what to do about it. I'm a fixer. I try to make things right.

It's been a week, and my mind is finally wrapping around the idea that there's nothing I can do. That he's gone. That I won't hear his voice, or see his kind smile, or the mischievous twinkle in his eye ever again. I miss you, Dave. I love you, man.

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