My good and true friend Andy committed suicide
Since I moved to Spain Andy and I had connected and we'd sit up half the night talking and putting the world to rights, or chatting over beers in the pub. Andy was 36. A few months back his girlfriend did the dirty on him - she was the love of his life. He came to stay with my partner and I and although he was depressed he rarely showed it. We had some great times and good laughs and grew even closer. Last Sunday 15th July the 3 of us went to the local bar in the evening. Andy was in good form and seemed clear on future plans. I now know he was but not in the way I thought. When we came home he phoned his ex. From my bed I heard him pleading with her. Then the front door closing. I should have followed him - I so nearly did - but he was a lonely soul and I knew he sometimes wandered off to think. I didn't know he had hung himself from a tree in our garden. The police called me out to see his body still there in the tree in the morning (they aren't tactful here in Spain). I stood with him for 2 hours until they took him away - I needed to - I don't know - protect him or something.
Andy was intelligent, wise, funny, loyal, and all round beautiful human being. I helped put the cremation service together and visited him at rest so I could try to erase the awful memory of how he looked that morning. But it's so tough. He was so vulnerable and I couldn't help him. I cry at the slightest reminder now and I feel so sad and I miss him so much it's hard to bear. Right now there's a fiesta going on outside my house and it seems so wrong.
I just want his company again - I want him back. It seems such a waste and everything good and nice reminds me that he's not here to see it. He must have been a very tortured soul. I wish I had realised earlier.
I know things will get better but I guess this is a chance to remember him in some way. I'm not religious but I hope he's happy now wherever he is. Bless you Andy Stevenson.