Coping with loss isn't something anyone can teach you. It's one of those life experiences that can only be taught by the cruelties of life itself. It was pathetic how I'd spend my time sitting here really, with my back against this tree and a handful of emotions I wasn't really sure what to do with. It wasn't like I hadn't seen it before. I was upset when my grandma passed away, and when my childhood dog Hero died that really tore me a new one.

However, this was…different. It had taken a little while for any grief to set in, now I was just left with this gaping emptiness. I had little to no problem behaving just as I had before it happened, but every time I was left alone with my thoughts I grew ever more uncomfortable with myself.

The atmosphere had been heavy ever since he died of course, the school went on about how tragic it was for a student to take his own life. Preached that they would start implementing schemes to prevent bullying and help services for people who were depressed. They'll say anything to make themselves look good though y'know? It's pretty fucked up. I'm sure it'll all blow over soon enough. They'll brush it under the carpet and people won't give it a second thought. After all, I bet some of them are having the time of their lives. Got what they wanted right? Pushed a poor kid over the edge.

Arthur Kirkland lived across the street from me as a kid. He'd come over from England. I'm not about to tell you how we were the greatest friends in the history of the universe because truth be told I didn't really know him that well. He was always in my class, always sat at the back. I was more of an enigmatic child. Our paths didn't cross too much. It was weird though, thinking that he was rotting away in a grave now and his quiet presence wouldn't be looming over me.

Although the further I got through high school the more I wanted to reach out to more people and cared less for social standards. The truth is, no one really cares. Unless they have some reason to pick on you and push you over. Like, your sexuality for example. The second everyone caught wind that Arthur was a homosexual, hell broke loose. I thought people were supposed to be more accepting in this day and age but apparently guys still liked to throw things at him and call him degrading names.

I went out of my way to talk to him, I guess you could say I was worried. See, I like guys too. Of course, it took me a long time to work that out and after seeing how they treated Arthur I worried for my social legacy. I've been closeted for too long. I couldn't be wounded like that.

Through this, I learnt many things. Useless things. Arthur liked books, in fact he spent most of his time reading by himself. He lived with his mom and his cat, but his mom worked 2 jobs and she was hardly around. I daren't ask about his dad at the time. We had a good time together, use to eat lunch together sometimes under this tree.

I shouldn't have believed him when he said he was okay.

Who could've taught me the warning signs to something like that? Who could've told me what to do when your friend was depressed? From behind the crowds, I always worried when he didn't turn up to school. I wish I could've been closer, I'd have liked to get to know him better. Too late now. There is no use hanging onto the "could have"s and "should have"s. I left it too long. Everything was always better in hindsight though I guess. If I could go back in time, I'd do things differently. I could've never expected this. Right now I just wanted to be able to tell him something positive. Like, you're wonderful and don't let anyone tell you any differently. You're such a beautiful person.

Jeez, that's gay.

The guilt of knowing you could've prevented something like that is overwhelming. But you just have to sit back and think that maybe it was something you couldn't change anyway. Running my fingers through my hair, I couldn't help but feel plain depressed thinking about it.

I could retch at the thought of how cruel kids could be. How did that saying go? Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me. What a joke. Words were more painful than any fists. Well, now I'm just sounding pretentious. It was the truth though. Nothing could bring him back. The funeral was just as heart-breaking as one could imagine. Cheap and barren.

It doesn't matter how hard I think about it, to have the nerve to pull a trigger and end your own life was unfathomable to me. It's hard to put yourself in the shoes of someone who must have such a crippling mental state. Maybe a hug would've been enough. Maybe.

I hope they're happy. I hope they're delighted that they could push someone into taking their life like that. My stomach churns thinking about it.

They won't think twice about what they did. I certainly won't ever forgive them, I don't know if I can even look at their faces walking free in the Earth. They'll continue to hold someone under water until they drown. Who's their next victim? They're practically criminals in their own right. Anger boils somewhere deep inside me, I just wish I could make them feel sorry. Not to say I want to beat it out of them or inflict fear but it is tempting. I just wish they had the capacity to feel bad for what they did. Watch it eat away at them like it's eating away at me. Keep them awake at night, guilt ripping into them. Was I bad for thinking that?

I guess I miss him. Arthur Kirkland left a gaping hole and I'm still trying to patch it up with imaginary solutions to a problem that's already been washed away.

If I said I loved him, it'd just make me an asshole. I didn't have the right to say something stupid like that. But, maybe something could've came of us if I'd been a better person. He was the only one who knew my secret, there was the potential there. That's easy for me to say now. It all slipped through my fingers.

I've made my mind up now at least, I'll tell everyone the truth and maybe I'll get a slice of how he felt. I could care less now. I didn't have much longer left in school, I'm still so young. Arthur was so young. I'm ready to come out of the closet. I'm ready.

My name is Alfred Jones and I'm gay, which is only a problem to those around me because they make it one.