So, this one is for you guys. I’m going to tell you a story. It’s something I almost never talk about. Only with a couple of people who know me very well. But I feel the need to bring it up. So just read. It looks like a long story. But I promise that it will be more than worth your time. And it will go by fast.

I had a guy best friend once. His name was Derek. Derek as one of the smartest people I have ever met in my life. In fact, he was so smart, that he helped me graduate high school, when I was in the process of dropping out. He was an amazing guy. Very encouraging in so many ways that I couldn’t comprehend it. Best humor in the world, best skater I ever knew, and he always knew how to make people laugh, even when they were in the shittiest of moods. He’s a huge part of why I am the way that I am. And he’s the reason why people call me “smart”. I told everything to this guy. And he told me everything.

When we graduated from high school. We moved to 2 different cities. And he went on to be a genius as CSU Sacramento. But we always kept in touch. Always. We talked about everything and even when we went weeks without talking, it was like we continued where we left off the next time we got a chance to speak. And then 3 years ago. I was talking to Derek, asking him for advice about how I should go about fixing a friendship with a certain someone. He gave me the best advice ever. I thanked him and then we said bye and called it a night.

The next day, I messaged Derek. Telling him that I took his advice and was fixing everything. He messaged me back. But it said “I don’t know how to tell you this. But Derek passed away this morning”. I thought it was someone who had stolen his phone. And I went off pretty much cursing them out. Only to find out that it was Derek’s sister. Using his messaging to contact as many of his friends as she could. That morning, Derek biked to somewhere far, and shot himself. He had planned it out for weeks. He left a letter in his pocket with a cell phone number, to let the police know to call his sister when they got to his body. And the letter said to tell his sister to open his laptop, where there would be a letter there waiting for her.

I never asked his sister what the letter said. For fear that it would break my heart even more. I don’t know how Derek felt. I really didn’t because I never saw it coming. And I just talked to him the night before. But I can tell you how I felt and how we all felt. I don’t think that Derek thought about how much it would hurt us all for him to leave us the way he did. Because if he did, I don’t think he would have taken his life. But because of this incident, part of myself died that day.

I swear that there is nothing more heart-tearing/sickening/self-destructing than trying to comfort your best friend’s family and his girlfriend, and trying to convince them all, that it was nobody’s fault. While trying to convince yourself of the same thing. I lost my appetite for weeks because I was so infected with the thought that I could have done something to save him. That I could have said something the night before to change his mind, if I had just known how he felt. I sickened myself. And I swear that I had memory loss and or short term memory for that entire year. Because every time something reminded me of Derek or if I had good news to share, I’d try to call Derek. Only to be reminded that he was not on earth anymore. I still have the urge to call him sometimes. But I can’t. I saw his girlfriend recently. She’s with a new guy. She introduced me to him. And I can’t be mad at her. Because I want her to be happy again. And I respect the man who has the patience to help put a beautiful destroyed girl like that, back together again. We can build ourselves back up all that we want. But I promise you, that we will never be the same. Because of that day.