Painless

We all knew that G wasn't the happiest person in the world. G was a pretty funny person, but not a happy one, if you can understand the difference in that dichotomy then maybe you can understand why G committed suicide last night. Maybe humour was the mask G had to don to be able to cope with the day to day bullshit that we all have to face every time we stagger out of bed in the morning. Of course, G did more than commit suicide. G committed "friendship murder." Dead is the "us" our relationship, our friendship, our good times together, all dead now, and not just G and me, but G and everyone in the circle of friends G possessed. All of us lost more than just G. We lost a part of G, and a part of each other. In some ways G was the glue that held some of our relationships together. There are people that I only knew through G, and who I will probably lose touch with now that the glue is gone. Maybe that is for the best, maybe those people and I were not meant to be friends outside of G's presence, but it still seems a bit of a loss. I won't go into the details of G's suicide scene, I was lucky enough not to see it in person, though I did get the details from the person who found G. It must have been quite a shock for them, and they are certainly not at work today. In fact, they might not be at work for quite a while. I did inquire as to whether or not G had left a suicide note explaining their actions, and my friend replied "did you really thing G would leave a fucking note?" That person is right, G is (is? I guess I have to type "was") not the type of person to leave some pithy suicide note explaining their actions. Nor would G leave some hate filled note telling the world to go fuck itself, though I suspect that the latter would have been more likely than the former. However, there is no note, no rhyme, or reason for G's actions other than the ones that remain hidden by G. The only thing the circle of friends that G leaves behind can do is sit, and wonder if maybe we missed something important that G was trying to tell us. Was that joke about being fat, but not jolly really a joke? Or was G trying to say "Help me! I hate my body image so much that I want to put an end to my life?" One never really knew if G was serious or not, and G knew that going so far as to say "take me seriously very rarely, but if I say I am serious I mean it." I guess we (the survivors) did not really get that message, and failed G in the most fundamental of ways. We all have our own lives, with our own problems, and our own hopes, dreams, wishes, desires, successes, and failures, but perhaps we should stop, take a deep breathe, and step out (as far as we are able to) our lives that are so boring, and look at our friends for signs of crisis. Hard to do, almost impossible to do, and even if we manage it there is no guarantee we will succeed, but even if there is a 1 percent chance we will succeed it has to be worth the effort. Validate your friends more often, you never know when you might be standing somewhere in the pissing down rain looking down at their mortal remains in some box, being lowered in some fucking hole, and wondering if just maybe you could have prevented it. The only truism that I can manage to wrap my mind around today is very simple, and very, very, fucking painful. It is that G is dead, and I am going to miss them a whole fucking lot.