This post talks about death and suicide. If this is a painful topic, please do not read on.
“Why” is the question most commonly associated with premature death, but it’s not the one that sticks in me.
Four months ago, my cousin killed himself. He was young enough to have a whole life ahead of him, and for him, that was not reassuring. I know why he did it; it wasn’t completely out of the blue. Except death always seems unexpected, probably even when you are expecting it. So while he was missing, even though in some ways we had to know it wasn’t something that was going to end well, there was still something like hope, until there wasn’t any more. And then there was shock, as if there had been the possibility of another outcome, poor fools. And also grief. And the sense of being too late…
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