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The hardest post I have ever written

Scarlett's BPD Corner

My friend J. committed suicide tonight. We were together until 9 pm and by 9:30, he was gone.

He was the person I mention on my last post. I was the last friend to see him alive.

I feel perplexed, in disbelief and numb. Right now, as I write this, I am listening to one of his favorite bands, Pearl Jam. It’s comforting. It’s like we are still together. I am still in shock so J’m sorry if I ramble.

We were close friends, I have so many good memories of him. He was that bohemian, dreamer friend. He was kind, funny and cultured. We enjoyed walking on the beach and going to random cafés. He was a tango dancer, he just loved it.

As I write this, I keep thinking that he is alive and then I remember the traumatic event that happened yesterday. It’s a weird duality, knowing…

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