I was going to be writing today about the fact I finally planted my garden, or the beautiful weather, or the Rock Band party last night.

Instead I get to write about the fact that one of my friends from undergraduate, Ian Rucker, killed himself. It still is sinking in, impossible to comprehend really. We saw him at the end of May, at the wedding in St Louis. He was one of the groomsmen. He seemed quite himself, and happy with his life. He invited us to stay with him in Washington D.C. anytime. I don't know what happened, or what must have been underlying that external portrayal of normalcy and well being. I think its quite normal, in these circumstances, to feel as if we should have noticed something or done something the last time we saw them, but I think anything I come with that could have been noticed is quite invented.

This is not the first time I have dealt with a suicide, and as much as I wish it to be true, statistics alone would suggest it is not the last. It is now, however, and will always be, the bane of my existence. It makes me want to run out to everyone I know, whether I know them as intimate friends and family, or mere acquaintances, and tell them not to kill themselves, which would be rather a pointless endeavor, as those who are OK would either be offended, confused, or concerned, and those that aren't would have deaf ears for the message.

I am sorry, Ian, that you thought it had to come to this. You were loved by many and I will miss you. Rest in Peace.

Left to right - Ian, Benjamin, Ben, Aaron

Ian