I know I have looked like sh+t at school the past week and a half, but the guy who rescued me from my rapist decided his life wasn’t worth living anymore. He was never the same after his third tour in Iraq, and Saturday night he OD’d. The Friday before, Halloween, I was getting sh+tfaced at a party, having a blast. I didn’t check my phone once until the next morning. I had a message on Facebook from him and it read: “hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I could really use someone to talk to.” I replied, but he never even saw it. He was there for me and I wasn’t there when he needed me. I feel like scum. Like I could have prevented this somehow. I’m a terrible friend. We had not spoken in a few years and now I’ll never be able to speak to him again.
image- Lorenzo Sernicola