I can’t stop thinking about what happened. I did find out that he actually did take his own life maybe 3 days after I had lost my phone. I shouldn’t feel responsible should I? I mean it feels fucked up if I do and fucked up if I don’t. At least he was an organ donor and the most sensitive person I have ever met. What have I done so wrong in my life to deserve wrath after wrath just raining down on me. Did I miss the appointment when God called? Or maybe I just wasn’t listening. I have never felt so much and so little all at once. I know this is a weird thing to say, but I never cry, my ducts dried out a long time ago. But, when I cried tonight, it was cathartic. It made me remember that I am still fragile and a human. Ah, these existential conundrums we face on a daily basis. We really shouldn’t take that for granted.