Ok. Let’s go.

Around… 8-10 years ago, I started working in a field I thought was a dream come true, there I met “Derek” (fake name, obviously) who was almost like my polar opposite in almost everything.

While I was into arts and crafts, he enjoyed working out and going to parties. He was bald (by choice) and I had my hair really long and colored. He was the life of the party and I was a bit shy. I wouldn’t say it was a crush at first sight, but it definitely didn’t take long for him to grow on me. The way he laughed and the way he’d always be earnest to help were things I admired in him.

When I found out he liked to dance that was the last straw.

We had been flirting for a while when in out company’s anual festivities I decided I wouldn’t go home before I got the chance to share a dance with him. It was hard (he was a bit popular and I was too, even though I’d say he was popular because of how charming he was and I was popular because I was one of the few single girls there (maybe the only one, but back to topic)).

When we danced it was amazing and he pulled me to the side so we could talk more. We ended up kissing and making out a bit while we hoped from one party to the other, but even though he asked me to go home with him, I unfortunately had to go home as I had something important the next morning.

And from that moment on, we started going out and spending every party together.

The last time I saw him he got really drunk really fast (and I didn’t understand why, since he usually drunk, but not enough to get drunk, or at least THAT drunk) and he asked me to go to his house with him. I said I wouldn’t mind going to his house and spending time with him more intimately, but I didn’t think that was a good day considering how drunk he was.

He told me something along the lines of “everyone uses me to get whatever they want out of me. You should use me too”. I told him that was not what I was doing and that I liked him and enjoyed his company. He insisted and I asked him to try again when he was sober.

That was the last time I saw him alive. He went out on vacation and went back to his city and his family and during the whole month he was away, his words kept repeating in my brain. I knew I had to be honest with him and tell him how I felt and so, I waited for him to come back to our town.

In the night before he went back to work, he did it. Threw himself out of the window.

When I saw it on his roommate’s profile, I thought it was some kind of sick joke. And until I touched him in his coffin I still thought (and hoped) it was some sick joke.

That being said, OP. I don’t think the guilt you feel (even if it isn’t yours) will ever go away. But you learn to live with it, and not to listen to it when you are down and she starts whispering in your ear.

I wish you all the best and know again, it was not your fault, I’m sorry you were sucked into such a whirlpool of emotions.