Listening To Absent Friends

Dear K,

Yesterday one of my friends ended his life. He sat down on some train tracks and waited to die. He left a note for the people he was living with. They got home, saw the note and ran to the tracks. The police were already there.

Charlie was a musician. He had this magical quality to his songs. They were democratic driving songs that didn't care too much about themselves and just rushed forward. Charlie's songs came at you and overwhelmed you with their sweetness and innocence and care for you.

When someone dies you stop and think about them. I don't know if I would have stopped to think about Charlie if he hadn't taken his own life. I went online and bought his albums for $10.00. They're the kind of music I love best.

I didn't know I would miss this sweet man the way I miss him now that we'll never have a chance to meet again.

You and I talk about sadness and sorrow a lot. We do a lot of wallowing together. I want to rebuke us for this but I won't. I can't. I'm just gonna end this with an excerpt from one of Charlie's songs.

"Misery loves company, and you're my favorite company, so won't you come and dance with me and take me home."

Regards,

K