Wildfire

(This is written in respect and memory of Johnny Ellis.)

That is what suicide is. Wildfire. Because your pain spreads to everyone, out of control. It leaps from person to person, clinging to everything. If you somehow feel that it will all just disappear when you leave, I am here to tell you it doesn't.  Pain is left with everyone you came in contact with and everyone that they meet.  Your memory will live on.  But not you.  And that is the pain that spreads like wildfire.

I never knew you. I don't even recall seeing your face in the halls, but I have met the people who met you. I have laughed with people who laughed with you. I have even cried with people who have cried with you and now for you. We are all interconnected and I am sorry that I never had the time to say hello or goodbye. And now I will never have the chance. 

I now pray that I can start a fire of my own; a fire that will touch every individual. A fire of love.  A fire of respect.  A fire of friendship and compassion.  A fire of belonging.  After all, we are all connected, even if some of us would not like to be. I affect your life and you affect mine. I hope for all people that when the time comes that they must die, that they die with their hand held in the hand of another human being. Don't die all alone with a blade or a bottle held in that hand.

Please choose to look to your side and see the person who thinks they are not seen. And please, please, see them.  Because when they are seen they are not alone.  They know there is someone else-someone who maybe cares. The slightest hope pierces the darkest night. 

Spread your fire of love to your brothers and your sisters.  To mothers and fathers.  To all people you meet. Because fire will spread whether or not you want it to. So we choose the fire.  A fire of pain or a fire of love.  If we choose the latter, maybe one day we will see the effect of our love. Maybe, just maybe there will be one less suicide.