all alone in a crowd of people.

I remember one of my favorite parts about living in New York was being able to walk down Broadway at lunchtime, people swarming all around me, and no one even noticed I was there. It was wonderful. That was my alone time. That was my time to process and think.

I’m an introvert, all the way. I need alone time to recharge, or else I get really sad, depressed even. Not everyone works that way, but I do. I love to be alone. In fact, I am sitting in a Mexican restaurant, eating all by myself, amongst the sorry stares I’m sure I’m getting, because I truly don’t mind being alone.

The recent death of the great Robin Williams has shaken me to my core. I know, it’s horrible, because with everything else going on, with children being decapitated in the middle east and the Ebola virus running rampant and killing too many people to count, the thing that I feel most grieved about is the death of this one man.

Except he wasn’t just one man to me, not really. Peter Pan. Dr. Patch Adams. Jack. Mrs. Doubtfire. Professor Keating. Genie. Sean Maguire. Allan Parish. Just to name a few. So many men that I adored, that I grew up with. And I feel horrible, because as well as I thought I knew “him,” I had no idea that he was so sad. The man who put on a smile on a million faces was sad. It haunts me. You just never know.

Maybe it’s rattled me too because this is not the first time someone I’ve loved has chosen to end their life. I have had friends and family members commit suicide. Each time leaving me both angry and hurt, if that’s allowed. My first reaction is anger. “How dare he leave me.” “She was supposed to be at my wedding.” “Does she not realize how much this will hurt me.” Me, me, me. I almost always forget to think about what they were feeling, and concentrate instead on my immediate emotions. Betrayal. Anger. Despair.

Those feelings quickly turn around though, and then I feel guilty. Did I not listen to her? Did I not call him enough? Did she not realize how much I needed her in my life? Clearly this is all my fault. If only I had done more...if only I had paid more attention...

So I’ve decided that suicide sucks. It just does. Cause the fact is, I have no frickin clue what was going on in her head. I don’t know why he did it. I don’t know why she didn’t just talk to me. And it sucks. Because I didn't know. And I feel like I should have known. We should have known. And I know I’m out of my mind thinking this. It has nothing to do with me, really. But I can’t help thinking it. I can’t stop thinking it. How much of this can we help? Is it purely chemical? Is there really nothing we can do? I can’t handle it. And don’t tell me to just pray. I mean, I’ll pray, I will. But Jesus didn’t call us to be his hands and feet for nothing. And I know we aren’t supposed to use them to just pat a back and walk away. That just can’t be what he meant.

Mr. Williams apparently once said that what sucks is not to be alone, but to be in a crowd of people and feel alone. And as much as I enjoyed my strolls down Broadway, I think I can understand that. Because even though I enjoy my “alone” time, I know that if I ever needed to, I’d have a friend I could call and talk to, one who I really related to. I also know that even when I’m “alone,” I’m never truly alone. I believe there is a God out there who hangs out with us, like all the time. It’s definitely our choice to believe He’s there, but I really don’t think that changes the fact that he is there.

And sure, sometimes that thought sucks too. I mean, I know God was there with Mr. Williams when he tied that belt around His neck, but He sure didn’t intervene and be like “Hey Buddy, maybe you should put that belt down.” Which kinda pisses me off too, to be perfectly honest, but I can’t exactly question an omniscient being, can I? Maybe he sees something greater coming out of this. Maybe this will raise more awareness about the millions of others suffering from depression. Maybe Robin Williams’ death will in turn save thousands of others.

I dunno. It still sucks. We ain't ever had a friend like you.

Rest in peace Mr. Williams. You truly were one of the great ones, and you'll always be remembered as such.