One of my closest friends took his life during Labour Day weekend 2020. We met in high school back in the early 2000’s but weren’t friends until I returned home from military service in 2012. We originally bonded over a shared interest in mountain biking and as we continued to do stuff together a deep friendship formed. I originally hated this kid in high school because of his friend group and how extroverted and loud he was. What I didn’t know at the time was how great of a listener he was, and how open minded he was to people of all different backgrounds. I didn’t really give him a chance though to be honest, just had a couple of chats with him and did my best to stay away from him. If I could go back in time I would have given him a chance. Maybe we could have been friends for longer.
I was in rehab in the spring of 2012 due to the Navy thinking I had a drinking problem. I was going through a messy divorce and trying to drown myself to keep from having to think about it all the time. I was given the option of going to a six week in patient rehab facility on the base or getting discharged. Midway through my treatment, I had some free time and was browsing Facebook and saw a recommended friend that just had a mountain bike as the profile picture. I had been active in the hobby for a while at that point, and knew I needed a new partner to ride with once I got back to Georgia in a few months. What the hell, might as well strike up a conversation and see if he knows any good trails. Friend request sent.
I moved back home that Fall and we met up to go ride after talking to each other frequently on messenger. We both liked to go hiking and camping as well and did that quite a bit until he moved to Tennessee in 2019. He had a blue 2009 Jeep Wrangler and we went offroading in it a few times and I fell in love with them. (It’s his damn fault I own three of them now!) He was my support in so many ways it’s hard to describe. I would eagerly call him a few times a week for years to run something by him or to get his opinion on something. He did the same and I felt like we were siblings. He was one of the smartest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Some of the best conversations I’ve ever had were sitting in the woods around a fire ring, pouring our souls out to each other. I told him my deepest secrets and we often talked about suicidal thoughts. That was always a trait I wished we didn’t share but it was nice to talk about it with someone who understood.
It had been a couple months since he had begged me for a revolver I had just traded for. We were standing in my shop and he offered me several of his prize possessions in exchange for it. I kept making excuses; he kept upping the trade offerings. First it was his telescope, then his gaming pc, and finally a Jeep Grand Cherokee. I knew deep down why he wanted it and I just couldn’t do it. I’ll never forget his face and the look of disappointment once he finally gave up asking.
I saw him for the last time that May. He invited me to a party he was having for his birthday over the weekend in Chattanooga where he had moved the year before. I drove up there and stayed the night with him and his girlfriend “K” and a few of his local friends. We drank and listened to music, and had a great time talking about all the dumb stuff we had done over the years. K dyed and cut my hair like the tiger king because of a bet I had with some of my coworkers back home. She had told me a few days before about the revolver he had bought without her knowledge, and how upset she was with him, threatening to leave him if he didn’t get rid of it. He somehow convinced her that he was okay and that he only wanted it for protection and for target shooting. He even let her hold onto both keys to the trigger lock to ease her mind. I woke up hungover the next morning and mowed their grass as payment for the haircut and then headed home.
That September, K visited her folks that weekend and while she was gone they had a disagreement about their relationship. He went out to the Jeep Wrangler he’d purchased a few weeks before and sat and drank a few beers in it. At some point he put the Taurus model 692 in his mouth and fired a .357 bullet into his skull. She came home the next day and found him. She said he looked at peace finally. I was the first phone call after she called the police. We were getting ready to go to a cook out that afternoon that quickly became a makeshift memorial after we shared the news.
Life hasn’t been the same since, and I often think about him and wonder what could have been. Where would he be now if he hadn’t done it when he did? Would it have happened later on anyway? The wasted potential. I so badly want to pick up the phone and give him a ring and tell him about my life now and how much better it is five years later. How I finally found the key to my own happiness. I have so much guilt and sadness about his passing. I just miss my best friend. -af
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