I do not have a song for this one

I am floating. Today does not feel real. I keep telling myself it didn't happen, that I'll wake up tomorrow like nothing is wrong and will carry on with no agonizing thoughts like those I'm plagued with right now.

Today started out like a normal day. Normal in that I got to work and got started on my different projects like normal. Music on the zune, ice in the bucket, sample list in my hand, and up to the greenhouse. Everything was normal. Normal normal normal. Sitting at my bench, music in my ears, I was distracted by an inhuman noise. There is no way to describe just how far my stomach fell when I turned and saw my coworker AC, the rock of our group, drop to the floor, inconsolable in her tears. Fear, rippling throughout every pore. The manager of our sister team had been speaking, but not thinking anything of it, I hadn't been paying attention. When I caught the eye of another coworker, I asked what had happened. This was not a normal reaction.

"Kelly committed suicide last night."

Kelly was her name and to give her another one would be a discredit to who she is.....was.

I couldn't even stand. My legs felt weak underneath me, and I felt the breath knocked out of me like I had been sucker punched straight in the gut. No, this could not be happening.

AC could barely stand, and without thinking, I did what I could to lead her back to her desk, where she called Kelly.

"It's not true. He has to be wrong. She wouldn't do this. This is not happening." She kept muttering to herself, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there were three coworkers struggling to keep their composure in her presence.

But then she got ahold of Kelly's partner.

Hearing AC's sobs, her repeated apologies, it hit me. Wave after wave of disbelief, choking the tears straight out of me. Around this time, other coworkers were showing up, ready to start their days, just like normal. But it wouldn't be a normal day for anyone. The news spread, looks of incredulity masking everyone's features.

Bosses. Boss's bosses, and even higher up, coming by, offering condolences. Every time, EVERY SINGLE FUCKING TIME we would all regain our composures, someone would come by and tell us they were sorry, setting each of us off again.

Today, we cried in the lab and in the office, unashamedly.

Some of us floated through work today, needing the busy work to distract us, to push us through. Some of us avoided everything, sitting next to a window and staring out it, for lack of anywhere else to look for comfort.

And then we left work, meeting up at one of Kelly's favorite places. We took SoCo and lime shots in her honor. We stuck to Budweiser, since she, like me, was a Budweiser girl. We traded stories that made us laugh, and sentiments that made us cry. We comforted and helped and did what we could, because from now on, nothing will be the same.

Her lab glasses that were so dark that you couldn't see her eyes won't be around. She won't walk into the office, wearing a vest each time, asking for opinions, or offering up data. She won't email pictures from Mardi Gras and then show up at my desk before I could even respond to laugh with me about them. She won't request the same reagent two days in a row. She won't be able to drive a very intoxicated me home from the Cardinals home opener and nearly drown us all in the process. She'll never again try to distract me by unbuttoning her pants and then learning why you should never leave an open beer on a shuffleboard table. She won't ever again ask when I'm going to head over to the development side of things, offering to teach me what she knows.

But it doesn't feel real.

Today's been a rollercoaster of the worst kinds, ranging from uncontrollable laughter at some of the stories about her to ten grown adults sobbing around a table at the thought of never seeing her again.

And so, I write. I write because I feel like I'm purging this awful feeling. Because I can't talk without crying, yet typing, I'm still. I know the next time I try actually speaking about her, I'll lose it. Just like I did at work, just like I did at the bar, and just like I did less than half an hour ago telling my roommate about what happened.

Because of this, I have a plea. A plea to all of you who read my writings regularly, who are just stopping by, who only casually glance at what I have to say, to every single fucking one of you who have read this far.

Please, I beg you, if you are struggling, find help. Call someone, a friend, a sister, a counselor, anyone. It's never too late to try to get help. Hell, if you really need someone and have nowhere else to turn, I would put my own phone number on the interwebs, for you and everyone else to see, if you would call me so we could talk it through.

It's not too late, it's never too late.




This one's to Kelly. I miss you already. I'll always miss you.