Secret Lives

I'd heard of the suicide, of course. Nearly everyone locally, who paid attention to the news, or was on social media, had heard of the death. I didn't know the man who died, though knew several people who did. Folks seemed in a state of shock. He'd had his demons, yes, but, as is so often the case, very few suspected that suicide would be the ultimate outcome of his mental and emotional travails. He was young, somewhere in his twenties, I think. Yet another life gone too soon.

It was maybe a month or so later when I was contacted privately, online, via social media messenger, from the young man abroad. We'd never met and, honestly, I don't remember how we came to connect online. He was cute, certainly, and foreign. He'd spent some time in my town awhile back, then moved back home. We said the occasional 'Hello' to one another on social media, but that had been about the extent of our communication. Then one day, there was the message from him.

"Do you know what happened to [the suicide victim]?" he asked. I was startled, both to hear from the young man, and of his choice of subject. I replied in the negative, only that I'd heard of the suicide, and was aware that he'd seem to have made a positive impact on those who knew him. "Did they ever mention me?" he asked about the deceased's friends and loved ones who were in mourning. Again, I responded in the negative, though my curiosity was now definitely piqued. The young, good looking foreign gentleman did not reply immediately. I hesitated to type anything else, as there was obviously something going on with him. Finally, after a few minutes, he wrote, "Then I guess no one will ever know what we had together."

I wasn't sure what -- if anything -- to say in response to such a cloaked revelation, so I didn't say anything for awhile. Finally, after what seemed like an interminable amount of time, I replied with something trite like, "Let me know if you ever want to talk." We never communicated again and, at some point during the intervening years, no longer stayed friends on social media. I'm not sure who unfriended who. Our brief conversation has haunted me, however, as I sensed within it a longing and a sadness. Maybe it was just me, overlaying his words with my own thoughts and assumptions? Or, perhaps, the young man was in his own part of the world, feeling mournful for, and disconnected from, a man whom he'd obviously cared about?

Thoughts of that online conversation are on my mind today, as I think about the secret lives and unacknowledged feelings and relationships we sometimes have. Occasionally, these scenarios exist completely within ourselves. They are a secret of one. Maybe we have feelings for someone, and those feelings aren't reciprocated, or should never be revealed, or acted upon? What of relationships that exist, cloistered, known only to those involved?

I have never spoken of that online conversation with the young, attractive foreign gentleman until now, and have attempted to keep things fairly vague here. Perhaps I should have asked him some questions, gotten him to open up? Or, perhaps not. He'd reached out to me, to a point. Maybe that wasn't very easy for him to do in the first place? And his last, cryptic remark was inexact enough that, even though he typed it, it came across almost as though it was something said to himself. A realized thought written down, but that is all. If he'd wanted to say more, he probably would have.

The local young man who took his own life had friends and people who cared about him, that much was obvious by the public outpouring of grief and tributes made to him online and with brick and mortar. He also, very likely, had someone in another part of the world who loved him, who'd shared affection with him and, for some reason, kept it secret. All of that is both sad and reassuring. Reassuring to know that the dead man had known love and friendship. Sad that it wasn't enough to keep him here.