That's my friend Kerry. There, on the far left-hand side (that's me on the far right). The photo doesn't do him justice. His hair was usually disheveled a bit, and he was tall and fit. Strapping. 27 years old, he just graduated with a JD and a masters in late May. He probably looked a bit glowy in this photo because he had just proposed to his fiance in the days prior. But that smile. That smile was always there. Kerry was known for his smile and his friendship.
This past Thursday, Kerry committed suicide.
I find myself searching for a why, though I realize that's fruitless at this point. It's done. Final.
Moreso, I just keep thinking about things. I'm not even sure what. The sadness of this has just remained in my head over the past day and a half. Occasionally, I replay a memory, but he's just been lingering in my mind. The sadness. The "what happened, Kerry?" The "where was the exuding happiness you were known for?" The "the world is a dimmer place without you in it."
I want to know if his happiness he exuded was a facade. I want to know if there was a constant deeper sadness. I want to know if someone broke his heart, or if he had a recent terminal diagnosis. I want to know what made this vibrant, one month short of being TWENTY-EIGHT year-old decide his seemingly-wonderful life wasn't livable. Why could he not find peace?
And even if I never know the answers, it breaks my heart to know that he couldn't find any answers either.
So, I'm not sure what I feel. Do I wish his life was miserable and this was the final straw? Or do I wish for a horrible thing to have happened that sparked this? I don't know. And really, why do I want to know his reasonings? It's not going to change anything. He'll still be gone. Are these the types of questions people ask when dealing with suicide deaths?
What a loss. The world is much dimmer. He had such life.
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