A man who I consider to be a teacher, mentor, and friend committed suicide recently.

It is tough. Your mind desperately tries to figure out scenarios where he is still alive. You can't help but think about him rather often. Seeing him makes you cry - because you're upset, because you realize that a light in the sea of darkness that often times is life has been extinguished, because you'll never see him again.

The last one is probably the one that hurts the most. He was the type of guy who was intelligent, helpful yet blunt, comedic, and ultimately kind. He wasn't afraid to call you out on being wrong, but would do his best to help you figure out how to be right and was very encouraging when you did so.

He was the type of guy who I saw and couldn't help but smile. And that special smile, that one smile I had when I saw this man, is forever absent from my face now. Pictures, mere imitations of this man, only serve to bring a similarly imitation of the smile I had when I saw him. And, of course, that smile quickly fades as happiness gives way to sorrow.

I honestly hate the idea of life without him. I hate acknowledging he's gone. I hate seeing his classroom bare, dark, and locked up. I hate the pain he was burdened with that is now distributed on the many he touched. It's such a weight to bear, even the small amount I have received, but it is amplified by my realization that the amount of pain he was burdened with must've been tremendous.

I hate that he suffered so much at the end.

However, life must go on. It's what he would've wanted. And I don't say this as some bullshit assumption or an attempt to comfort myself, but with absolute conviction that it is true. Why? Because when he couldn't believe in himself, he believed in us - his students. He believed in our potential, our work ethic, and who we were as human beings. He couldn't do this for himself, but he gave us his all, and his belief in us was no exception.

Meyer, I loved you. You were a beautiful human being and just what I needed. I can't thank you enough for being so kind, helpful, and, as has been mentioned, believing in us - believing in me. You taught me so much, and again, I love you for it. I'll miss you, and I already do so much... I'm crying for you right now, even! But, again, I must go on. I'm so sorry I couldn't do anything when I could have, but it wasn't my place. Though, when such a thing as existence is at stake, do such social convictions matter? Forgive me. I have failed you, I think. I only can hope that your suffering is over. And if it wasn't my fault, I hope I can realize this. I just need to know why it happened, and me being a scapegoat gives me a reason, I guess.

I am typing so damn much, Meyer. God, I fucking hate this. I hate you're gone. Why? Holy hell, Meyer, why? Rest in peace, you beautiful, glorious human being. You deserve it and, as I've said and perhaps say without a need to, I am so sorry.