With all things traumatic, there is a period of time where you spend, after the shock, a great deal of hours and days processing what may (at current), be the most devastating thing that has happened to you. You seek answers naturally, thinking if you knew what really happened, you could cope better. And then you find out; your worst fear was what truly happened. That the person very dear to you has taken his or her own life, deflating the few ounces of optimism persisting  in your way of thinking. You ponder in shock, your heart aching, your stomach in knots, unable to understand what could have caused this person to do such a thing to YOU. Is the first thing that crosses your mind, and then you calm down enough, after the obsession to make sense of it all, only to recognize that he did this unthinkable to himself, resolving in that few moments or perhaps days in torment, ending his life was the solitary thing left for him to do…whatever the damn …