I just watched a dear friend of mine commit suicide today.
I just stood there, helpless in the moment.
He looked at me, stepped off the building and accepted his fate.
As I watched his body be destroyed by the pavement,
I remembered the last words he spoke to me.
He said that he had just made too many mistakes to be forgiven.
He said everything he had built his life on had been turned into sand.
Sand that was being quickly eroded away.
He felt gross emptiness from his own disturbing faults.
He felt completely rejected by the family he chose to let go.
He felt bitterly betrayed by the friends he had locked out of his life.
He felt eternally abandoned because the God he thought he knew didn't exist in the way he was originally taught.
He simply felt like everything he held so dear had somehow been robbed from him in a moment's time.
I just stood there, helpless to stop him.
Even in the sight of overwhelming evidence proving that his life was not how he perceived it, I just stood there and watched him become consumed by the monstrosity of his own sadness and depression.
I just stood there, looking at him, destroyed by the pavement…hoping that this friend had met his demise for good.