Marker
Around 20 minutes ago, I was informed that the belongings of one of my closest friends was found on the Golden Gate bridge in San Francisco. Documents in his back pack led the San Francisco police back to a hotel room, where the rest of his belongings were, including identification and (apparently) a farewell note. His parents contacted me just now to let me know that his apartment (which is in my suburb) also contains documentation indicating as to his intentions. He jumped on our Sunday (an American Saturday), and his body has not yet been found. There's a good chance that it won't.
I met Stephen several years ago at Swinburne University, where we were both involved in an arts course. He was incredibly shy, but made up for his reserved nature through sheer talent. He was a Renaissance man, good at everything, and I (in my subtle ways) forced him to converse with me. At first, I thought he resented my interruptions into his world - he would not make eye contact, mutter in response, and walk fast - head down - like he was avoiding all interactions. Years later, we bumped into each other at karaoke, and formed a closer friendship, corresponding via mail. He showed me his journals from Uni, and surprisingly, it seemed I'd made some kind of impression. We spent a lot of time together - trips to the zoo, the aquarium, hanging about watching videos, going to his gigs...two kinda socially stunted outcasts enjoying each other's company. Stephen had Asperger's Syndrome (a milder form of autism) which prevented him only from interacting 'normally' with everyday people. As mentioned before, his talents in all fields more than countered this handicap, and there were times when he was truly brilliant. He'd been in several bands, released 2 CDs (of his own volition), and written and published his own novel. The large painting in my loungeroom (Pool Tiger - you can view it in the Artwork section of his site) is one of his works - something that he gave to me last year. He lived life more fully, with more ambition and drive, and committment to his art, than anybody I have ever met.
When he was a teenager, he'd jumped off a rail bridge - landing feet first, and snapping both his ankles. He once told me that he'd never make that mistake again.
Recently, I'd not spent as much time with him as I wanted to. As now, in retrospect, I should have. I was busy being depressed, then working - he was busy with his musical engineering course. I'd been antisocial, and limited contacts with many of my close friends. On days when i'd had outings or visits planned, I cancelled them more often than not. I hadn't spent quality time with the people who were most important to me. The last contact i'd had with him was just over a week ago, where (in his LJ), I'd said that we should catch up soon. He replied that we should, but it could be difficult as we were both so busy. I was unaware that a part of his being busy was planning a trip to America to end his own life.
His entire online journal - which is extensive and filled with his artistic endeavours - can be found here. If you have a few hours, spend some time there. Read his stories, his journies, view his art - it is/was the best way to know him.
Stephen, if you are still here, please contact someone to let them know you're alright. I know that there is only a slight chance that you're still alive, but right now that's what i'm hoping is the case. You're one of my absolute favourite people in this world, and both myself and your family are already missing you horribly.
If not, I love you, and I won't forget you ever.