Jul. 25th, 2012

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I got a call from my mom yesterday, telling me that a highschool friend of mine committed suicide on Sunday. Oddly, I'm feeling more upset about the fact that I don't feel too upset about this than I am about a friend dying.

I believe I last saw Steve some time back in '96 or maybe '97, so it wasn't like we were close any more, but he was a staple of my high school existence. The thought that I can't ever just randomly bump into him again or search him out and catch up on our lives isn't hitting me like I thought it would. I mean, you spend enough time gaming in an ass smelling basement or driving to larps together and the bond that is formed should be stronger than just a random acquaintance, right? But then I keep coming back to the fact that sometime during college, I went my way and he went his, and that this is a normal fact of life - friends come and go and sometimes you stay in touch and sometimes you don't. In this case, we both did the latter.

I guess I just sort of wish that I had made the effort to keep in touch. Not that I am under any sort of delusion that I would have been able to save him if I had, but I can't help but wonder about the positive ways we might have impacted each other's lives had we stayed in touch. That and maybe I'd actually be feeling something about Steve being dead other than this abstract notion of sorrow.


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August 2012


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