Someone we know likely killed themselves. I say "likely" because the police aren't saying for sure yet. But it's pretty for sure.
I am so sad. I cannot stop thinking about it. I think terrible things like, I wonder if he died right away, or if he had to suffer until he bled out. And, I wonder if he regretted it the moment it was too late. These kind of morbid, useless thoughts are running rampant. As are random fits of crying. The worst is when I think about his mom, because then I think about me. I think what if that happened to one of my babies. Then the tears get wild.
It's a selfish place to come from, but it's where I am right now. Like wanting desperately to make sure this doesn't happen to me. Telling Rosanna a thousand times today how I love her more than I've ever loved anything in my life, that I will forever show up for her, that she never has to be so lonely. That she never has to be so sad.
Then comes the part about,"What if I could have done something?" He had asked us when we were gonna pick up taco Tuesdays again, and when we went again, I didn't even think to call him. What if that could have done something in his life? Had him feel less lonely. Had him feel like people care.
Who haven't I paid attention to lately? Who am I going to feel guilty about losing if they pass before the next time I see them?