I wrote a piece here, and decided to pull it and hold off. How much can I share here? It's a question for myself. I read where somebody wrote "he lost his life Friday after a personal struggle" -- euphemisms.
When I was contacted on social media, by his childhood friends -- Terrible news. My world just got smaller, But I knew from experience that there's never a good day to receive terrible news. Death, It's always nearby.
I needed time to digest this latest death, before I could even begin to write about it, let alone absorb it into my psyche. I was surrounded by ghosts. Surrounded by the past. Like a fog rolling in, it attacked my sight, pulling my other senses out full blast, so that sound, touch, perception... it was painful
I'm outlining the story I promise to tell. It's a story that will free me from guilt, sorrow, and obligation. Obligation to that which was unsolicited, but accepted by another scarred, hurt, damaged yet brave and heroic individual, who until their final breath...
