I remember that day more than I’d like. It was January 28th, and I was heading to work when I decided to call my mom. It was six in the afternoon, and something in my heart was unsettling. My mom calls me everyday, usually before six. She picked up the phone on the other side, and I just knew something was up. She said she was just getting sick, but I just knew; I felt it.

So before I said good-bye to hang up, I asked her what was wrong one last time. She replied with something that I never in a million years could have expected: My childhood best friend and cousin back home took her life away a week before her 16th birthday.

I don’t know how I could possibly describe the way it felt. It was just mere hurt and frustration. That night I don’t remember how I made it to work, or what happened for the rest of the night. I was lost in my mind. All the questions swirled in my mind, those quick moments I decided that it was real. I had just lost someone I had messaged less than 24 hours ago.

Why? Why couldn’t you tell me? Was I not approachable? Was I a bad friend? There were so many questions to ask but the only person who could answer them was gone forever.

I spent the next few days in between waves of disbelief, frustration, and pure sorrow. But then I knew that this was the reality of things. She was gone. And I should stop haunting myself with all those questions that I’ll never find answers for. And for a while I learned to deal with it, as they say.

It wasn’t until six months later when I traveled back home that it all crept up on me again. I got to the airport ever so eager to meet my family and friends. But once we drove up to my house, it hit me all over again. Everyone was at the door waiting to say hello, and amongst them was her mom. For a close second I imagined her standing there next to her mother. That she was still with us. And that she would pretty much live with me while I was there, we would go shopping and grab dinner at one of the food trucks downtown, and laugh at all the guys that would fail at flirting with us. But she disappeared. I got out of the car, hugged one person after the other. When I got to her mom, I hugged her and she hugged me closer. I cried, because as she hugged me I felt her heart pounding and I knew that all those tears and cries were nothing compared to the ocean of pain she would carry along for the rest of her life. I lost a best friend, cousin and sister, but she lost a child.

I had to spend the next two months there hearing people talk about the many reasons why she chose to leave this world that way. It made me sick. They said she had everything and had no reason to be unhappy. They don’t understand that two loving parents, a roof over your head, and money are not always the keys to happiness. No one chooses depression and suicide. No one even talked about depression, as if depression was only for poor people that had drug issues. It disgusted me. Mental health is an issue and we need to take care of our mental health just as much as we take care of our bodies.

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about her. I wonder what she would be up to at this point in her life. I wonder what she would say about the crazy situations I get myself into. I wonder what kind of adult she would have become. I wonder about so many things. And everyday I wish she wasn’t gone. But truth is, she is. And till I meet her again, I don’t think I can ever let go. I simply need to learn to live with it. For a while I kept it to myself, didn't want to speak of it. But now it's out and it's reality.