I went out with some old friends last night, and the subject of Em's death came up, briefly. It isn't something I really talk about much anymore though I think about it all the time. It was odd to hear them talk about it. I guess we all have our own little spin on it. That piece of information that we know that someone else might not, and this tends to make the story different. They were saying things like, "he was having a weak moment" or "he wasn't thinking right." They blamed the fact that he hadn't eaten that day coupled with a medical condition. Now, I won't mitigate any of this, but no one would say the word suicide. And the fact of the matter is, no matter how you look at it, Em killed himself. He committed suicide.
I have spent a lot of time angry with myself, and I have spent a fair amount of time mad at him. As I listened to my friends talk I clung to my little sliver of knowledge. And I felt a pain start to swell in my stomach. I was aching a little over the fact that they still were not seeing "the truth." And I was getting anxious that what they were saying might take my "painful truth", that I have become so comfortable with, away from me. And I began to get angry.
But as I came home, as I thought about it, I started to wonder...maybe I didn't know what I thought I did. Maybe he didn't set out to end his life. Maybe it was a moment of weakness. So I started looking into his medical condition... Am I looking for an excuse? Would an excuse make me feel better? Do I want to believe it was weakness, or selfishness? Does it matter? He is still gone.
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