Dear Neal,

It started with a ding at 7am on Sunday December 11, 2016.  MyFacebook instant messenger had gone off.  I knew it was you, but I rolled over and fell back asleep.  I got up at 8:30, but even then I didn't check on your message until 8:40.  "C U soon" was the message you sent to me on Saturday.

You sent your sister a message at 6:58am EST in a PST zone, left a message on Facebook at 6:59 and sent mine at 7am.  I want to believe that you were gone by 7:01, because if I don't, I am not sure I can live knowing I might have been able to stop you. 

 I knew it was true the second I saw it, and if I am really being honest, I wasn't completely surprised, broken people sensewhen someone else is broken.  Maybe that's why we felt safe with each other.  I loved you anyway, broken, grumpy, lacking diplomacy, but you had the biggest heart I had ever known.  And when you looked at me with those blue eyes, an eyebrow waggle and you cracked a smile or better yet laughed, I felt like the most special person ever.  

People had asked me to share your suicide note, but I didn't and I won't.  It is the last thing I have of you and I want to hold it close.  Reading it every day hasn’t made it easier, nor has it made it any more understandable, but I can't stop.  As stupid as it sounds, I am sure if I could just figure out what happened that morning, I might still be able to find you in a little pueblito in Mexico.  Opening my mail box every day, I break a little further when there is no letter from you.   Your cell phone message is still intact and I listen to your voice whenever I can't hold back.I know you are gone, I just wish you weren't.

It used to be paralyzing; I didn't think I could exist.  The raw horror of what happened and what you must have felt just took my breath away and my footing in the world crumbled.  I miss you.  I really, really miss you.  It has been 6 months and the heavy, sodden quilt of sadness still engulfs me.  Selfishly or not, I no longer think of your pain, because mine is barely tolerable. I am not capable for thinking of what you went through and for that, I am very sorry.  150 days since you died and I have thought of you every single one of them and continue to do so.  You were my person and I miss you deeply and entirely with a pain I did not know was possible.  Something will happen that I will want to tell you about or I experience something we used to do together and I just want you back.  Please just come back.  

Do you remember the day on Rooster Comb?  I wanted to try out my new snowshoes on the way to the Winter Festival in Saranac Lake.  I was going too fast and needing to stop frequently to catch my breath and getting anxious about ruining your day by being slow.  You wrapped your arms around me and said "slow down, it's ok".  How I wish you were here now, telling me "it's okay".  What about Gore Mountain right before we went to Mexico?  Once again I was going too fast and kept needing to rest.  I would say let's just stop and look at the view and you said "it looks the same as it did 5 minutes ago".  Finally you said, "stop looking up, take it one step at a time and it won't overwhelm you".  That is how I take each day without you in it.Only now I have to do it without the warm breath on my neck, your voice in my ear and the wrap of your arms around my body.