………

I can’t believe it.
I can’t.

I just found out, 5 minutes ago, that my friend Vincent committed suicide last night.
He battled depression too, I knew that. But he barely talked about it.
He’s really sweet and goofy, loves to drink a little too much.
We always hang at ‘stadscafé’ in Dordrecht, and drink tons of Rouge Kasteel beer.
Its my favorite bar. He’s the owners son.
We kissed 3 weeks ago.
We danced 2 weeks ago.

I hadn’t been in Dordrecht since. I can not believe that I will never see him again. Never.
No more cherrybeers, no more sigs on the little bench outside the bar, no more dancing.

I wish I’d known how bad his state was. I wish he would have talked to me more.
I also never talk about my depression to people I actually know or see, but if I had known, I would have talked to him, make him feel at ease, I would have let him know that I know what it feels like, to wake up in the morning, and prepare for battle. I could have helped him maybe, by letting him know he’s not alone.

I can’t cry yet, I’m in shock.
I cannot believe he did it.

I haven’t heard the details of how it happened yet, just that he ended it.
All I can hope for now is that he found what he was looking for.

Sweet Vincent, I hope with all of my heart, that you now have found the peace, the silence, the happyness, the comfort you were looking for.

I envy you in a way, cause those are the things we both want.

But I know I’m not done yet. I have to keep going, and keep trying.

Rest in peace.

You’re awesome. And a very good kisser! 

Wherever you are, have a great great relaxing time.

Bye…

Vincent Deuning.