The Fragility of Life

Today I learned that an acquaintance of mine, a friend of a friend, committed suicide two days ago. This was a man I met face to face two or three times for not longer than an hour and a half each time. I also spoke on the phone with him once for about 15 minutes and exchanged some text messages back and forth. I would not say he was a great friend, but he was at least a friend or becoming a friend.

A man who six weeks ago I did not know from some schmuck sitting on the bus. A total stranger in my life you could say. But, a man three weeks ago I shared some laughs and heard his struggles over a coffee and some toast over breakfast on a Sunday morning with some mutual friends. A man who shared with me a website to watch free movies. A man who genuinely cared for others. A man who invited me over to his house for a BBQ but I could not make it due to prior commitments. A man who had a wife. But a man who was deeply troubled. Outside he seemed fine. No handicap.  He didn’t walk with a limp. No physical deformities. Just looked like any other dude getting by in life. He liked watching movies. He talked about the beach and swimming.

But a man who inside had some stuff going on. Stuff that I could not even imagine.  A man who by his own admission heard loud noises in his head. Louder than a fire alarm going off. All the fucking time. Loud bells of a fire alarm in his head all fucking day. But still a man nonetheless. Struggling to get by. Struggling even just to live. But the struggle was too much and the struggle ended two days ago.

No more loud noises.

Rick, I am not angry.  I am sad. I just hope you are in a better place.

May You Rest in Peace.


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