That Question

"I'm on the ledge, while you're so goddamn polite and composed/And I know you see me, but you're making it look so easy/What comes and goes, I'd go without/I know you're fine but what a fallout" -Marianas Trench, "Fallout"

Sometimes, I wonder how I can keep sane myself when I hear Sean and Jeff tell me about Jack. He was the most amazing guy you would ever meet, yet I've never met him. I can't pretend that I know their pain, but I can show them that I do care. Sometimes, I wish that was enough. I want them both to feel at ease with his death, but I know it will always be something difficult to cope with. Jeff has been embracing it differently from Sean. Jeff tells me stories about Jack all the time. He smiles when he remembers him. He wears a wristband of Jack's all the time. He keeps Jack's necklace around his picture. Sean cries. Sean has written numerous letters to Jack, wondering why.

That question seems to kill me more and more that I think about it. I hate that question, because it is pouring salt in a wound. Coping is easier when we don't wonder why. We can only accept it. We can only come up with a reason of our own. It will always be open ended, yet we need to give it closure ourselves. It will never get easier, especially when it comes to suicide.

I used to think this blog could be used to give a moral of a story, but now I'm sure that this is just closure for me. It's my chance to vent about what I'm thinking. I want an answer just as bad as Sean and Jeff do. All I can do is tell them how cute Jack was and try to make them smile. It's easier to get Jeff to smile, since he's kind of on cloud 9 from me, and he can think of so many good times with Jack. Sean will always be a different story.

Praying Jack will give them some closure... somehow,
Sierra