The Veil.I don't know where to start, or even really what to say. But this is burning a hole in my brain & perhaps if I put it out there my stomach will stop twisting into knots.
I've never really been able to get my head around the difference that just one breath can make, or the true unchanging stillness of the no longer animated body. But it is what it is. There is no starting over. What once was is no more. Dead is dead.
I wonder what goes through the mind of a person when they chose to end their own life? Is there a peace then or does the havoc remain? Is it even really a choice? Some people see weakness, a selfishness in that decision. But I think there must be a certain bravery to those steps that carry a person into the unknown. For no matter what you believe lies beyond that veil you cannot truly see until it is too late. The journey is one way.
Overnight, while I slept sound in my bed & dreamt of kissing beautiful lips, he, a friend, had rope in hand. On one end he fashioned a noose, the other he tied to a girder of the railway bridge that stands less than a mile from where I sit right now. He held it then & made his way back up the bank. & placing the loop around his neck he jumped.
What do I write now? How may I follow that? I don't believe I can.