September 14, 2015
It’s my nonverbal friend’s birthday this week. He invited me to his fortieth birthday but I didn’t go since it was the opening weekend of the NFL season. I wasn’t a good friend. It was my belief that I was better than him. He attended Madison College when I did and he still was a student when I returned to work part-time as a writing assistant. I ignored him at first, but in the latter years we would talk when we saw each other. He always had a smile on his face. Six weeks later after his fortieth birthday he committed suicide. I have always regretted for not being there for him. He was a genius. I’m sorry, Mark.