I recently learned that an old friend of mine died over ten years ago. Okay, more than died, she killed herself.
We knew each other and dated briefly around the end of high school, when I was at a community college; of course I lost touch right after that because I am one of the worst people on the planet at keeping in touch with old friends. I have no idea the turns her life may have taken since then, and I’m grateful her sister searched for me a few months ago and got back in touch.
I’ll always remember her laugh. I’ll never hear it again, but that was a given years ago, I suppose. She was a warm and happy person (who could also spit tacks if you pissed her off) but I figured she had moved on to the more grown-up things; she got married not long after I did (my mom shared that with me, what is it about moms keeping in touch with old girlfriends?). That’s about all I know about her life, which is pathetic.
I know about the kind of darkness that can bring suicide about; hell I’ve been steps away from the abyss many times. But still.