Hold on

Recaps are important, they let us get an update on things. My plan was to track down everyone I ever interviewed and see how things are, write down the short of it. I figured I should start at the very beginning. Where all good things start.

I don't know if you all remember his story. It was at a time when I was new to all  this blogging business. Before I discovered that I could put up pictures in my stories. Or even that I could write people's stories.  A time when I was just discovering what kind of shape my writing would take here, (and to be honest I had way more consistency.) And see where I would go with it all.

My first interview, Steve, the guy with the lumberjack laugh. The one who had an afro you could probably stick a few combs into. The guy who looked like a man's man but drank pink milkshakes. He used to cut himself. And in November 21st last year, I discovered, he killed himself.

 The black hole he described as loneliness took him, though I can only guess. I won't say how he died but his mother found him, and several letters beside him. I won't venture into all the ways I thought I could have done more. Because there's always more we can do, right? I don't know if its all deaths that leave you with questions nobody can answer. I suspect I should have said all this earlier, but my hands didn't cooperate until now. Because how can a life that beautiful cease to exist? And of all the stories I wrote, his was secretly my favourite.

 I went to the memorial, and looked past my own guilt and sadness.All around  I saw a hall full of people in tears. Wondering why he did it. And I remember thinking that he thought he had no friends. Maybe he died thinking that. And here we all were.
His mother, a tough old bird gave me permission to write this, with the warning to,

"Tell them to learn from all this. And tell them that there's always an alternative to ending your life. Even when the alternative is a long shot, even when it's so much harder to pick life. And that's easier said than done but please try."

Later, she called me, asked me if I'm really the one who wrote sleeves of war. I said yes, she said thank you. I didn't know what to say to that so I told her It was my pleasure.. And she burst out crying. She tells me she laughed and cried. She tells me she misses his hair and his laugh and asks me if I know the story behind his obsession with milkshakes.

I tell her no. She makes a strange noise and tells me about it, tells me to keep it between us. Because it would destroy his macho man reputation. She says she saw the marks on his arms and thighs before and thought they were just scars from a clumsy kid. That she didn't know until she read the blog post that he used to cut.

I'm not yet at the point where I can introspect and give sage last words. So I'll leave it at; check on your friends and family. You never know man. You never know.

Ps: Sorry for the long wait. It's mad times here. Expect a longer post soon.

PPS: If you haven't read sleeves of war go read it. If you have read it again.

PPPS:(so many announcements today) if you want to submit a journal entry or tell us a story, get in touch with us at manamanamusings@gmail.com.I promise we're fun guys to email.