In preparing for an eventual move I’ve been going through all my stuff to clear out as much as I can. Included in this ‘stuff’ are the many letters I’ve saved over the years from family members and friends. I have culled my treasures many times so I only have some of the more precious tomes left. I’m not quite ready to read those from my mother who we lost just about a year ago. I’ll keep them for another time. I did however read all those I saved from a very dear and departed friend Diane.

Diane and I met in our first year of college and remained friends over the years until she decided to end her life. I knew going into these letters would be tough and a bit tragic but I had to see whether I should keep them or not.

When I received the sad news about my friend I was going through a life crisis of my own. I had thought of calling her just a night or two before I heard and always felt that if I had only made that phone call…things might have turned out differently. Well, no telling as far as that is concerned but on reading her letters I am left to believe my call may have cheered her for the moment but in the end would have made little difference as to her final decision.

Diane and I both had our share of troubles in our early years of college; well hell who doesn’t? We were drawn to each other by our common pain and sensitivities. We both felt understood by each other unlike by anyone else in our lives. Unfortunately our lives took separate directions early on and most of our contact from then on was through infrequent letters and even less frequent phone calls. We did stay tied to each other though and that was brought back to me through reading the letters that I still have.

In the end I thoroughly enjoyed revisiting my friend through her letters; was reminded of the times we did get to visit each other and of the many trials and tribulations she went through over the years after school. The very last note I had from her was of the announcement of her wedding to the fellow she had been writing about and mentioned early on that she hoped she would marry. It seemed to me she had found her other soul mate and had finally gotten her life together.

I’ll never know why she decided a few years later that life wasn’t worth living. She overdosed on pills and perhaps was hoping someone would find her and understand how much pain she was in. Alas she was found too late and all I have left of her now is my fond memories and the passionate notes of a dear old friend.