i thought you were so strong, you'd make it through whatever

Ry was a tall and dark fellow. He wasn't dashingly handsome, but he has that boy-next-door charm, tousled hair and all. He was the youngest of three.

I was a rotund abomination. Only my relatives would use the word adorable to describe me. And I get that luxury because I'm the first born (and it won't be until 2001 that I'll have a sibling). And I have hair that won't stay down.

He was fifteen, I was seven.

He was my Kuya Ry.

I really can't recall how it all came about. His family moved to the apartment on the street parallel to ours. His mom was friends with my aunt so in no time, their family became an extension of ours.

My fondest memories include those of our bonding over their Atari. It was still one of the cooler consoles that time. After classes, I would sit on their porch and wait until he arrives from school. I could have easily called out his mom to let me in but I preferred not to. My anticipation of his arrival is much similar to a child's excitement of finding a gift under the tree on Christmas day.

Day after day, I'd do just that. If we get tired from beating each other in Galaga or Battle City, we'd just play with his Uno cards, or swap scary stories, or ultimately wrestle. That's what young boys do. On weekends, we'd either chill with his friends or roam the neighborhood riding our bikes. Good times.

He was my Kuya Ry.

Summer came and I woke up one day only to find out that Kuya Ry's family had moved out. I wasn't as devastated as I wished I would have been, but nevertheless, I did miss his company. But life goes on. Or so I thought.

Several years after, his mom came to visit bearing the news that his son committed suicide. He hung himself in his room but not before leaving a letter saying that his life is too miserable for him to go on. There was no clear reason why he succumbed into depression. Some say that it was the effect of the drugs that he had apparently been taking. Or because his girlfriend broke up with him. Or because he couldn't take what was happening to his family.

Stupid, silly reasons. And it is sad that he just had to give up and took the easy way out. I never saw my Kuya Ry as suicidal. He was cheerful, religious and a very active one at that. He was the cool one. So it puzzles me why he would do such a thing.

But I refuse to put him down further by saying how stupid he was for killing himself. I want to but I won't. I'm no saint to cast the first stone because at times, I tend to stoop to that level of stupidity myself.

Kuya Ry: Simula ngayon ako na kuya mo ha.
MakMak: Opo.
Kuya Ry: Opo ano?
MakMak: Opo, Kuya. :-D
Kuya Ry: Yan! (sabay gulo sa buhok ko)

If I could just say bye bye.

*******

POSTSCRIPT. Two days ago a fellow blogger buzzed me up and asked how I was doing, or specifically, if I were no longer feeling suicidal. I could only send him a smiley because in reality, his statement hit close to home. It never occurred to me that I would appear as such when I wrote down this entry. I guess my confessionals are more effective than I give it credit for. Thank you for noticing, fellow blogger.

This is for you, Kuya Ry. Sorry if I was not able to say goodbye.