How the fuck did this happen.
My good friend and coworker committed suicide 1 week ago. Ever since I've found myself in this pit of depression from which I can't escape. I feel like I could have done something more to prevent this.
Rocky Whiteside was a son, a brother, a friend. I never let on to it but I really looked up to him. I really wish I could have gotten to know him better. Turns out, we have a lot of similar interests, including big band music, architecture, history, and theatre. I love you, I miss you, and one day, Rocky, we can talk Frank Sinatra together.
His funeral is tomorrow. Zach, Justin, and I are will most likely be those kids that bawl on the first day of kindergarten.
I don't feel like doing this.
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