[27 March, 2011]


March 17th marked a year since my friend's suicide, and all this time has been quite a journey. In the year, I cycled from anger and disbelief to general sadness and anxiety to fear of the Bridge to transforming the Bridge into a memorial, and feeling generally at peace about it.

And to now being able to remember and honor her life. On the anniversary, I wrote a poem in her memory, just something informal to commemorate her, the event, and my personal reconstruction.

I think sometime soon I will go to the Bridge and read this poem there quietly. Then I will burn the paper so the flames meet the atmosphere and so the ash falls into the water. Fire is often a symbol of purification and rebirth, and out of death always comes life, new ideas, and a new purpose.

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