One night three or four years ago, the phone rang in the wee hours of the morning. It was Chris calling to say goodbye. He had his side arm loaded and he was done. It had been a few years since he’d come back from Iraq to no job, no wife, and no home. Though he’d struggled to rebuild what was left, he was angry and confused. And he was still fighting the war in his mind. He felt very alone.
This was not the first time he’d called to say goodbye, but it was the first time since we’d become close that he’d decided it was time to take his own life.
That night I found out what it was like to talk someone down from suicide. It’s an unpleasant experience especially when the person on the other end of the line is the love of your life and you can’t get to him.
I don’t remember a lot of the 45-minute conversation but I can still hear the click of his weapon against the phone. It was as close to losing him as I’ve ever been. And though he’s spoken of suicide many times since it has only been in passing about how things used to be.
I have stood on both sides of this particular fence, so I'd like to take a second to thank every person who has ever taken the hand of someone who has reached out to them in their lowest moment.
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