So, I found out a few days ago that a friend of mine killed himself. And I have been feeling horrible and sad and out of sorts since then. Each day involves waking up to my cat's urgent meows and head butts, rolling over to kiss my partner, basking in sun. And then comes the crushing realization that a friend is no longer here. A person who was so vibrant and fascinating and caring.
I am horrible at staying in touch with people, and this was one of those people. The last time we spoke was a few months ago, and I haven't seen him since last summer. And I have guilt about that, even though I feel that feeling guilt after someone's death is such a waste of time, a way of making this horrible event about me, focusing on my pain instead of paying tribute to that person. So I am trying not to feel guilty and instead remember Carm in a way that he would have wanted.
The first time I met him he was running around campus with no shirt and a guitar. Doing somersaults in the arts building. He ran up to me and told me: "you are delicious." He would interrupt professors in our philosophy classes. He would sing. He would quote Nietzsche and talk to me about getting out of the hospital, pulling release papers out of a ragged copy of Spinoza's Ethics.
The last time I saw him, we meditated together for 40 minutes, then made a stir-fry out of tofu, fresh mushrooms, peppers, ginger and lemon grass from the farmer's market, sharing stories.
I will miss you, and I am sorry that I wasn't more present in your life. Goodbye, Carm. xo