The most devastating event of my life was when Jeremy killed himself.
I seemed to be his last thread of sanity. My moving out of the apartment cut that thread, resulting in a slow downward spiral.
Shortly thereafter, Jeremy dropped out of school. He abused drugs and alcohol. After that, he was admitted to a mental institution for paranoid schizophrenia. He attempted suicide twice. He took a flight back to my city without telling his parents.
I didn’t know about any of this. I returned to our apartment to ride out the lease for the summer, thinking I’d have the space to myself. Things got weird when Jeremy showed up out of nowhere. I saw the red flags, but I was too afraid to do anything about it.
Long story short: he assaulted me, I got him unintentionally arrested, he skipped his court date, and instead decided to jump off the balcony of our apartment.
It’s true what they say. An event like that never leaves you. I’ll have to deal with the pain and guilt for the rest of my life. Good lord, I can’t imagine the pain that his family has endured. My heart goes out to them.
And to you, Jeremy: I love you; I’m sorry; please forgive me; thank you.