My old friend Ray died this past Monday. Suicide. She leapt to her death from a parking garage. I don’t know any more than that as yet. But Ray has been troubled for many years. There will be a memorial service next month.
Ray and I laughed and cried together since 7th grade, when serendipity moved me from one seat in Homeroom to one across the table from her. To be honest, I was terrified of her. You see, Ray was cool, she was popular, she was fun and funny. Everybody wanted to be her friend in 7th grade. But she wanted to be my friend. I’ve always felt that she changed my life with that action; she raised my social status in school. I was no longer a non-desirable. I was a “Friend of Ray’s.” And that was something special.
For the last 18 hours since…
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