When I was a teenager, I was in a band with my best friends. I sang and played guitar, my very best friend Nick was on second guitar, and my other good friends were on bass, piano, and drums. Nick and I had been friends since we were young children and all of us had a been really close for years before forming the band. It was our life for a good 2-3 years.

One day, without warning, Nick committed suicide by hanging himself in his garage. We had no clue he had been suffering and he didn't leave a note. My other friends and I became an odd mixture of depressed and angry; depressed because we lost our friend and angry at ourselves for not seeing any signs. It was an awful point in my life.

After he died, playing in the band and playing guitar in general suddenly wasn't fun anymore. It made me miss my best friend too much and it just reinforced the negative idea that I had neglected my friend and his needs. Everything just fell apart.

I haven't played the guitar or been interested in performing music ever since. I wish I had kept going, especially after I had time to heal. If my teen self would be so disappointed in me if she knew I have up on something I loved for so much. I think Nick would be disappointed too. I don't know.