The tragedy of suicide

A young man at my school killed himself Monday.  I didn’t know him, but I probably had seen him in the halls at some point – he was apparently a pretty good kid…respectful, hard-working, a cowboy who liked nothing more than working on his grandfather’s ranch, as his obituary described him.

As I said, I didn’t know him, and details about his death are, of course, limited b/c of the circumstances. As I understand it, he was parked in front of his girlfriend’s house when he died, leading me to believe something happened between the two of them, perhaps a break-up.  He killed himself with a shotgun while locked in his car and while a couple police officers who were called by the girl’s father attempted to talk to him.

I didn’t know him, but can’t help but feel a sense of loss.

This kid had his whole life ahead of him.  He had a family who loved him dearly.  He had younger brothers and sisters who probably looked up to him (this thought haunts me). And he had touched any number of lives at school, where he was active in FFA. I saw friends of his hurting this week. I saw teachers of his crying.

His suicide ended whatever pain or difficult circumstance he saw no way out of, but it wasn’t a solution. Suicide rarely is, and never for such a young person.  I wish he had been able to look beyond his pain and seen possibility instead of an ending.

I don’t write this to judge him.  I write this to mourn him –  a kid I never knew – and the loss this world suffers when a young person takes his/her own life.

It’s never worth it.

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