The Days Pass Slowly, But The Months Fly By

Yesterday marked a special day. I visited Paul’s grave for the first time after the funeral last month. Although it gives you some comfort that he doesn’t have to go through his pain anymore, it just hurts to know that he’s gone, forever.

I knew that Paul faced major depression for a long time and remember having talked with him about his experiences with psychotherapy from time to time.

He once mentioned that he tried out medications temporarily while seeing the psychiatric clinic more as a way to not having to live back home, so to retain at least some form of independence as a young adult.

Had I but known in how much pain he must have really been. Most people who never went through something similar just won’t understand.

Even though I moved a lot and lived in quite a few places during the last couple of years, I dearly wish that I would have checked on him more often.

The last time we saw each other was almost a year ago, when he and another friend of mine came to visit me in my student town. I’ll always cherish these couple of days and memories we had together.

In the blink of an eye, everything can change. You never know when it’s the last time you see someone in your life.

Now, going through the last pictures of us together, I just lose it every single time.