Bullet through the blanket

UntitledSomeone closer than comfortable commits suicide.

Didn’t expect that. Go to the funeral, see all the people she talked about. We’d talked about suicide before. Told me months before she’d almost done it before and no one knew. That she was thinking about counseling, getting on medications. Encouraged her.

  • Bullet to the head.

Knew her well and not well at all. She kept a space inside, away from everyone, even maybe away from herself. Like me. Like everyone. Personal acreage of the soul.

People who knew her got together. Good service.

Felt like a wet blanket over everything. Didn’t blame myself. Didn’t blame anyone else. Didn’t make sense to me. Never makes sense to those left, which is kind of the point, maybe. Didn’t understand them in life shows when you don’t understand the suicide.

A few weeks pass. Been staying to myself, nothing to really say to anyone about anything. Don’t trust myself, don’t know what I’ll say, don’t know how to act. Reality is murkier than usual. Colors are shades of grey.

Code. Code. Code. Code. Good code, bad code, code. The Temporary Tomb of the Procrastinating Coder.

Guy walks up to me in the store. Starts conversation. Known him a while. Asks me how things are going, tell him briefly. Mentions that I’m ‘angry at everyone’, but the reason he thinks that is because the company he works for is pulling dick moves – so rather than put people in the middle, just leaving them alone. Nothing to be done. He stares at me, gives me a mock smile, overemphasizes, smug, speaks hurriedly, tries to shake hand as he says, “Just wanted to say hi but you made this all about yourself”. He came up to me. He asked me. He wanted to know why I was leaving him alone.

Laugh inside. That’s exactly why I was leaving him alone. Always thinks he’s smarter than everyone. Fun to watch him trip and see his face as he realizes he did.

People do that. No sense correcting them. No sense fighting over their little hills when you’re climbing mountains. No sense. Nonsense. Grasping at power like hungry ghosts. Dead inside.

It’s hot outside. Cool inside. Stay inside. Think too much about too little. Calm inside. Stay calm inside.

Hurricane. Heading this way. Probably should leave. Surreal. Friend reaches out, asks, “what’s your bug out plan.”

Oh. I should do something. Assess. Think. Pierce the grey veil. What’s important? Does it matter?

It matters. Long drive, head clears. Good friends, head clears. Memories of color come back. Then colors come back. Laugh. Smile.

  • Bullet through the blanket.

I return.