I am so sorry, SubC. That is so hard. Hugs.

I went to his celebration of life today. It was amazing. So much art, stories, home movies - I got to hear him laugh again.

His mother said he saved everything he made in my class. And some of it was there. And his friend told me that I made a difference - to both of them.

It still hurts just as much that he's gone, but some of the other pain is better. The little voice in my head that has been telling me I needed more time is quiet, and another one says I didn't fail him. I couldn't save him. And I'm not naive or conceited enough to think that I could have. But I didn't fail him.

This morning I woke up, and c being dead wasn't the very first thing I remembered. And when I remembered, I didn't start crying.

Last night I slept.

I found a picture of him holding a baby goat I brought to school.

There is a thing in my classroom that I use that reminds me of a day that was hard for him. Yesterday I thought I would throw it in the dumpster today when I go in to work.

But today, I think it will be ok to keep using it.

I am heartbroken for this young man. I am heartbroken for his family and for you, SubC. I'm so sorry.

I don't want to post on the daily thread because I know this can be triggering for people and because sometimes our own pain is all we can handle.

So please, feel free to stop reading now and go.

It's about a student.

Ok.

Out of all the years I have been teaching, there are a lot of students I loved and miss. But there was only one that I desperately wanted more time with. The last day of his senior year he had me last period. He was having a horrible day. Not because he was sad to leave. It had been kind of a horrible week. I called him out into the hall to talk to him half an hour before class ended, and he started crying. I asked if there was anything I could do to help him and he said "can I please just go home before classes get out?" I said "yeah. If you need to go, go. You know you can always come back to visit, right?" And he said "I am never coming back here." And he left. I watched him walk out of the building crying and felt completely useless.

Over the last couple of years I have tried to get news of him - other students, google, I hoped he found his place in the world. I hoped he was happy.

On July 14, he took his own life. He was 20 years old. He was smart and funny and had incredible creative talent. He felt things deeply. He wanted a relationship but no kids. He wanted to move to nyc or la. And I know that even when he was a kid, it took everything he had just to get through the day.

The first thought in my mind this morning was that he is gone.
Nothing tastes good and sometimes it's hard to swallow or breathe.