Sounds like...

I hope they're treating you right. Whomever they may be.

Turns out my friend jumped from his balcony. I found out last week when I read the coroner's report. I thought it'd help to know. Turns out reading the conclusion made me sick to my stomach. I didn't tell anyone. Let them keep the fantasy and ignore the seed of doubt. They'll be happier for it.

I've had some unexpected free time to think about him over the last few days. I've talked out loud to him as if he could hear me. I've told him that I wish he would have said something, that I wish he would have told me he was depressed or thinking about killing himself. I've told him I would have been there for him.

I started to wonder if he'd left a note, or if anyone knew he was thinking about it. Then I realized that it doesn't matter. There's no note or video or sentiment that can ever explain what a person truly feels inside their head. All they can hope to offer is some vague reassurance that it wasn't anyone's fault. Even if you leave one your family and friends will still find themselves asking an empty room, their shower, their kitchen, a photograph... why?

If that's going to happen anyway, then a note just seems like too little too late.

A few weeks before his death, he brought his sister and a few friends out for a tour of his favorite spots in the desert. The photos and videos made the event look like a lot of fun. He looked as happy as I'd ever seen him. Maybe his way of reconciling his plans were to enjoy one last full adventure before he punched out.

I guess my point is, no one will ever really know what a person was thinking... not really. They could devote time and energy and life and love to filling this blank void with memories. Then simply plug the bottle and hurl it into the ocean to be swept out towards a distant shore.

Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,"