I’m not going to get into an argument over this. I mean, like honestly, we gave you everything. We bought you a new car when you graduated high school. We gave you a home filled with happiness and joy. Hell, even though I balked, and your mother cringed, we still allowed you to go out with that Jack person.

I remember when the Cabbage Patch Kids first came out when you were four and you cried and cried saying we ”just had to” get you one. We did, and your smile lit up the room. You became a Cabbage Patch mommy.

Then came that day your mother and I dreaded the most, you leaving the roost to head for college. Of course, we were happy for you, excited for you, but deep down, we were heartbroken to see you go, but hey! It was your first step at being on your own with new responsibilities and new challenges. We both knew you would do fine, but you want to know something? After you left, I think I cried more than your mother did.

Doesn’t seem like a year has gone by, but it has. And it didn’t end well, no, not at all.

And I know you can’t answer this, but what I really wanted to ask, was why did you take your own life? Why did you destroy the best reason your mother and I lived for?

That’s an answer I will never get from you and that’s what makes this so hard for the both of us. The never knowing why.

“What I really wanted to ask was if you did it on purpose? Did you plan it for a long time? I mean, I could never understand why you insisted on maintaining unhealthy habits, knowing they were killing you. I couldn’t’ understand how you couldn’t stop drinking when you had everything you needed. Everyone loved you, at home, at work, strangers. I didn’t understand why you still weren’t happy. Why you still needed to drink and drink and drink.

“So, I really wanted to ask, did you do it on purpose? At some point, did you decide you wanted to die but you couldn’t pull the trigger in that gun in your closet? Or maybe you were thinking about us or your soul? You didn’t want your wife to have to find you? Or God not to forgive you? Did you figure drinking yourself, killing yourself slowly would be more forgivable? Maybe get us used to the idea so it wouldn’t be such a shock? We got to watch you degenerate so that you looked like death long before it came. Was that your plan?

“I really wanted to ask you if it was that miserable, that hard, did it hurt so much, did you suffer so terribly that you couldn’t find reason enough to live in your wife, your child, your soon to be born grandson? The grandson with whom you hoped to fish? The one you prayed for as he grew in me.

“I really wanted to ask if you changed your mind at some point, realized it was worth holding on but it was too late? You had already succeeded.

“Well, I just wanted you to know that I think I understand now. And I think you were right. I just might try it myself.”

There's no one like you

Your voice always kind

Baring your soul

You never did mind

You carried a burden

Your tender, sweet heart

You grieved for your family

Your guilt set apart

Your care for us all

Watching tears fall for years

I can't believe you meant that

We'd face this great fear

You fought past that guilt

You conquered that shame

You knew deep forgiveness

You found a new name

You knew you were loved

In spite of it all

Forgiving yourself

Long after that fall

Just a moment of peace

You so longed for sleep

I sincerely doubt that

You meant it for keeps

I have many questions

What I really wanted to ask

Was your intent, forever

To leave us like that?

Was this somewhere you'd gone

In the past, long before

Approaching the edge

Of death's darkened door?

Did you feel emboldened

And given some courage

Each time there before

You'd resisted the urge?

To take your own life

Find relief of your pain

To go on to heaven

And see him again?

So many questions

I'd asked of you now

I know not the "why?"

I only know how

What I really wanted to ask was...Have you ever wondered that all our thoughts, we think we can trust in, are perhaps just an illusion of our weird mind construction?

Intellectual game:

Every stimuli you receive, you simply interpret the wrong way round?

Every truth is actually a lie and vice versa?

Every 'yes' a 'no'?

Our shut-eyes the awareness part of our human being and the awake phases are the recovery of our stressed out, lost minds?

But you happily live on this planet, persuiting of a 'normal' life...

...and no one ever recognizes?

Then you can say 'I am free.'.

What I really wanted to ask was

why do you kill yourself over a future that could possibly be?

What I really wanted to ask was

why do you work two jobs and how do you keep going?

What is it that lights your path?

Not a single mathematician could calculate what your future holds.

What I really want to ask was

what do you do to keep yourself sane under these insane conditions?

The world you have cared for has crumbled around you and you continue to push the boundaries to a greater extent.

You have given me a chance at freedom, one that has both the pursuit of happiness and the chance at a great life.

What I really wanted to ask was

how is it that your instincts still keep driving?

and that you haven’t just flipped over and crashed?

I’m curious is all.

Forty years and still running,

What I really wanted to ask

is was it painful to have lost as much as you have lost?

There isn’t a day that I don’t give thanks that you are here but what is that has given you a chance to thrive in the murky depths of life.

I can only ask questions.

My stupidity is profound.

I have only a hope that these questions are answered by you, but if this message isn’t received in an acceptable amount of time, then I can only give thanks into whichever heaven you ascend to.

Now go home.

Merry faces light up the room. We make short work of wrapping the gifts. I know we are entirely different, so I keep my mouth shut, focusing on only what we have in common. I respected you, told you that you were the only religious person who didn't make me feel inadequate.

Now, I wish I hadn't.

What I really wanted to ask was

"Why do you call people like me disgusting, but you pretend that I'm not like the others?"

"Why do you feel that you have to convert me?"

"Is this all just one big contest between you and the rest to see who can get me into Heaven?"

"Why can't you just accept who I am without conditions?"

I wanted to ask you the hard questions, but you have my sister. If I want to keep her, I have to zip my lips while you disrespect me. I have to nod and tell you that I understand when I want to shake my fists at you and scream.

As for you, silent assenter, I wanted to ask why you only told him to be quiet after I was in bed. Why didn't you have the courage to tell him to stop when he said that my grandfather only loved a man because he was abused in childhood? Why do you pretend that you are okay with me while you allow me to be put down?

What I really wanted to say was, "If you can't love me for me, leave me alone."

Do you feel the same as I? When I’m near, does your heart thunder and mouth go dry? When I cross your mind, do you smile and heave a sigh? When asked by friends, do you have to lie? When I must distance myself, do you ask yourself why? Do you fight urges to stare at me, or steal glances on the sly?

Do you seek comfort in my presence, when it’s all been enough to make you cry? Do you make excuses to be near me, like a junkie chasing a high? Your an incredible friend so I don’t want to ask, don’t want to pry, if I drove you away I’d want to die.

What I really wanted to ask was, do you feel the same as I? And does the gain outweigh the risk enough to even try?

Some students, I never forget, simply because they’re a pleasure to teach. I won’t forget you, but not for that reason. Every day was a trial, a pain, a day that I didn’t want to wake up because I knew that I would have to spend the whole day dealing with you. Another day, another problem, that’s how it was. You never did your homework, you didn’t listen in class, and you did your damn best to drive me to insanity. Whether it was a gluestick, rolled purposefully towards me in hope that I would trip and fall, a hard shove at your classmates, often injuring them, or the constant talking, you were the problem child. I tried to help you, I really did. I talked to you after class, sent you to the principal’s office, even talked to your parents multiple times in hopes that they would make you stop your behavior. Yet no matter what I did, you wouldn’t stop. I tried to find out why you acted this way- I asked if you had problems at home, or psychological issues, or were experiencing a stressful event. Everything I did, everything I tried to do, every way that I tried to help you, amounted to nothing, There was nothing I could do, no underlying reason that you acted out in class. I suppose, what I really wanted to ask was, why have you chosen to torment me so, when I’ve only ever wanted to help you?