I noticed an article online recently by Coranth Gryphon which, although it's entirely from a second person perspective, is obviously about himself to those who knew him. Coranth isn't the name I knew him by, and many of his friends and I refused to call him that for reasons that are probably best left to obscurity, but it was frustrating to read this. It's not clear to me if it's a suicide note or just his way of saying that he's had enough and he's planning to completely drop out of society (I suspect the latter), but either way it's always sad to hear that a friend didn't make it.
There are times that I wonder how I did. I'm not "normal." My ability to relate to others is clouded by the fog of poor social skills and an enthusiasm for things that most people will never care about. But I never had the break from reality that Coranth suffered, and I always remembered that, no matter how few friends I had, they were my friends and they were precious. Over the years, I've thanked them but never enough.
Someday, I hope I'll see him again. I wonder if he'll remember me. I wonder if I'll still be able to relate, or if I'll have buried myself so deeply in my interests that I'll forget what it was like to sit up at 2AM in the lab at school, talking about crazy things that I thought we both understood were fantasy. I wonder if he'll remember that I found it all too easy to laugh at his inability to relate to the world at times. I wonder if we'll still be friends.