We Need to Talk About Death

Trigger Warning : Suicide

Photo by Debby Hudson on Unsplash

I’ve written five versions of this piece.

The first I wrote days after you left this world. Hurt, confused, ready to follow in your footsteps.

The second, and the third, I wrote trying to bring you some type of justice. To raise awareness, to call attention. They were both too pithy. Too filled with rage at everyone else that failed to notice the signs they were about to lose a friend. Too filled with rage at myself.

The fourth was pure grief. How sometimes I get so excited to show you something I’ve found before I remember. All the times over the last few months I’ve picked up the phone to track your location only to stare at the ‘loading’ screen. All the articles I have saved to share with you. My “bitchiest” comments about our co-workers. The slightest amount of anger at you, for leaving me here.

I’ve been considering keeping my mouth shut. But — we both know I’ve never been very good at that, and plus, if there’s a heaven, then you are here, somewhere in between the lines of code, floating in the cloud.

You believed in the power of telling stories, and I believe in you. So here we go.

We need to talk about death.