It's all about what YOU believe

So, found out this morning that Chris killed himself. I had originally said that I was going to be angry at him if this is what happened, but I'm still having a hard time feeling anything other than sad. And confused. Very, very confused.

I'm still going over all of the "what if"s, too. I know that's bad. I know what's done is done and nothing could be changed. But that's the curse of an overactive imagination.

Baybhee told me today that she believes a person's spirit is with us for three days after they die. If this is true, Chris is with us until tomorrow night. According to her, the spirit travels to all of the friends/family, saying goodbye. I'd like to believe this. And I think he's said goodbye at least twice now. I already mentioned the skittles thing in last night's post. But something happened again today.

I was a bit pissed at Baybhee because she said something about how "noble" it was, what he did. Comitting suicide is NOT noble. It's seflish. It's unncessary. It leaves a boatload of unanswered questions. It causes unnecessary grief for the people left behind. So I fired back at her and then promptly left the office (I was taking a deposit to the bank, so it was appropriate.). I got into my car and turned it on. Usually, I have to hit play on my ipod in order for it to turn on and start playing. As soon as I turned my car on, it turned on and started playing. Ryan Starr's song "Last Train Home" started up. It's not a song I'd ever associated with Chris, because I have quite a few I used to listen to and think of him. But some of the lyrics hit home. It was things I wish I could have told him. I'll post the song at the bottom of the page for you to listen to.

Maybe I'm fetching for signs. Maybe the bag of skittles last night was open in the box before I grabbed it. Maybe my ipod just messed up. I told my dad about these things and he said "It's all about what you believe. If you think it was him, it was." So there. Think that I'm crazy. Think that I'm over reacting. But I know deep in my heart that this was my goodbye.

I'm going to write him a letter, probably sometime before his memorial services on Saturday. I want to burn it and let the ashes float skyward. Because a part of me thinks that when the ashes reach the sky, he'll be able to read it.