I wish you could see your suicide

http://havokjournal.com/culture/i-wish-you-could-see-your-suicide/?utm_source=Havok+Journal&utm_campaign=50152e3e24-Havok_Journal_Daily&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_566058f87c-50152e3e24-214562045

You didn’t mean to hurt anyone. That’s what the priest told us during the funeral Mass. It sounds good, at least. I’d love to ask what you were thinking, but, well, y’know. That ship has sailed. None of us outside that casket are going to know what was going through your mind right before the bullet. We never got to see the pain inside you or see the world through eyes that were always tinged with darkness. Just like you’ll never get the chance to see what I’m seeing now. What we all see. What we saw.

I wish you could see… I do.

I wish you could see the faces of your wife and kids when they found you. I wish you could hear that phone call to your parents, to your brother, the raw ache in their voices. I wish you could read the Facebook post that they had to put up, less than a day later, to stop all the rumors. I wish you could read the comments.

I wish you could sit in painful silence on the drive that people are making from across the country to pay their respects. One flew in from Texas even though he hasn’t spoken a word to you in three years. Another drove across six states to be here.

Everyone you would expect to be there is. Probably many that you didn’t. I showed up half an hour before the ceremony and got the last seat in the chapel. It’s the same chapel you went to the last time you ever attended a mass. I wish you could see that chapel now. I wish that you could see those people, all looking for answers that only you can give. Answers that you never will.