Just a couple months ago, one of my oldest and closest friends commited suicide. I knew him since the day I was born and we grew up together, even dated. We always had our fights like all friends did but we always made up and we were still amazingly close no matter what. Any problems we had in life we always could talk to each other. He helped me in a huge way when I tried to kill myself years ago. I remember when we were younger we’d text each other late into the night and keep each other up really late. We’d always tell each other our problems or talk about music and other random things. When we went to Bamboozle together years ago he helped me out of the crowd after I got punched in the face and sprained my ankle, he pulled me out of that crowd and didn’t care at all that I was bleeding on him. He was always there for me and cared for me when I felt so depressed like no one cared for me. He would call me his little sister (of course making me feel short putting emphasis on the “little”) but i always knew he meant it.
Recently, we haven’t been as close and I regret that so much, and I’m so sorry for that. I wish we could have talked about his troubles and I wish I could have helped him like he helped me.
This is a picture of him and I when I was a newborn.
If you care to donate to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention I’ve included a link for a walk that I am doing in my friend’s honor.
I love you Nate, I’m so sorry, and just know that I will never forget you.
(via preciousandcorrupted)
