Why He's Gone.

A few nights ago, Friday, a classmate of mine, Tom, hung himself. Today is Monday. And the entire senior class has been mourning his passing. I barely knew him, but we've had classes before in the past. Last year, he and I made an egg carrier in physics. It was supposed to keep the egg from shattering when we dropped it on the floor.

I remember that Tom was always quiet. He spoke up whenever it was absolutely necessary, but stayed quiet whenever it wasn't. He didn't talk to hear his own voice, like most people. For that I admired him. He seemed content. He seemed okay. "Seemed" is a stupid word.

I haven't been able to think about anything else all day. What could have been. Like I said, I barely knew him, but I knew who he was. I saw him in classes we had together, and we were friends on Facebook. He was my age, and his name was Tom. I wish I knew what happened.

You never know what people have brewing under the surface. Tom, for all intents and purposes, was an average high school kid, with problems and traits like us all. But something in him led him to believe he had run out of options. No one here knows how to feel about it, especially not me, besides sad.

No one goes without being missed. No one commits suicide without hurting someone. The thoughts that lead people to think suicidal things are lies, because anyone who ever reached out for help was faced with the choice of taking it or leaving it. Tom not only left his help behind; he left a school, a family, friends, and a future behind. He walked out on his own life, because something in him lied to him and said it wasn't worth trying.

I don't know much about the situation, but I know that Tom deserved better. No one gets to tell him that now. It's too late. That's why he's gone. Tom either didn't know the truth, that is he was completely worthy of the life he had ahead of him, or he chose to ignore it.

Suicide hurts. Lies hurt. Truth heals.