“Killing Off Myself”

Something profound occurred to me in 2017…. I changed my alias, and I became Mary Lou!! I cannot explain why…. But it feels as though Raelyn and Mary Lou aren’t even the same people…. Like Raelyn is a part of my past, a part of another Life, a part of my twenties!! Truth be told? I no longer want to be an author whose fictional stories are published, and sold in bookstores!! Why? I may not be living my dream, but I am living out my minuscule calling!! That is so much better!! More on my calling—Lord willing—later!! What’s in a name? Everything!! Mary Lou—according to my baby name book—means ‘blessed’, and blessed I most certainly am!! I highly recommend that everybody change their alias, {or their name}, from time to time!! It can be Life changing!!

Yes, yes, I did infuse my old self, {Raelyn’s}, thoughts, feelings, and emotions into Hannah Louise!! Why? Because doing so helped me better relate to her!! How so? See, Raelyn created this fictional character, which means that she ‘played’ Hannah Louise within her heart, within her soul, and within her head while I, {Raelyn}, wrote ‘Killing Off Myself’!!

Suicide—to this day—remains somewhat of a taboo issue. It shouldn’t be. On August 11^th, 2014, a ‘celebrity suicide’ occurred which saddened the world at large, and eternally shook my core. Beloved Hollywood actor, Robin Williams, hung himself at age sixty-three. Suicide—to this day—remains somewhat of a taboo issue. It shouldn’t be. Why? Because,—tragically—Robin Williams is dead. Suicide—to this day—remains somewhat of a taboo issue. It shouldn’t be. Why? Because, my Great Uncle John—who used to endearingly call me ‘sweetheart’ with an East Coast-like accent—is dead. Suicide—to this day—remains somewhat of a taboo issue. It shouldn’t be. Why? Because,—in a cruel irony—even Project Semicolon founder Amy Bleuel committed suicide on March 24^th, 2017, at age thirty-one. Suicide—to this day—remains somewhat of a taboo issue. It shouldn’t be. If suicide was not somewhat of a taboo issue, then would Robin Williams still be alive today, acting in movies, making everybody laugh, sharing with the world his God-given talents, abilities, and gifts? I cannot help but wonder….

Roughly two years before I, {Mary Lou}, wrote ‘Bob The Weiner Dog’—which involves Hannah Louise’s childhood—I, {Raelyn}, created Hannah Louise’s future, and wrote ‘Killing Off Myself’ in 2016. Wow. Maybe I am ‘brilliant’, after all…. Here is Volume Two of ‘Dragonfly Lake’!! 

“Killing Off Myself”

Edited By Kara Kent!!

Dragonfly Lake. This is an incredibly beauteous, woodland, beatific place where my parents, my younger brother, Jeremy Michael, and I used to drive toward every single Summer as our faithful vacation spot. I remember a rocky area on the side of the road which served as my visual landmark that we were almost there to case our perfect campsite location…. At last…. Everyone’s favorite, most preferred spot had its very own private view of Dragonfly Lake!! Sometimes we were lucky enough to stay at that particular campsite…. Sometimes, it was already taken. As soon as Mom and Dad set up our large family-sized tent, I remember stretching my legs, running freely around vacant spots, exploring, trying to find ‘Bigfoot’s Cabin’, an ‘abandoned’ log cabin. I could never get lost on Dragonfly Lake’s campgrounds, for I had every single area memorized by heart!! Whether it be a few old-fashioned looking water hand pumps. Or stuffy, germ-infested, human waste-smelling outhouses. Whether it be the wooden dock which leads to Dragonfly Lake.

I definitely knew my way around!!

I am grown now, a thirty-year old adult. I suffer from Depression {which is self-diagnosed}, and ever since I was eighteen years old, I’ve frequently felt like an incredible mistake, as though God Himself had a lapse in judgment the very second He created me. The very moment I was conceived. The very second God carried my preborn little Life to full term. The very minute He let me live. I could have been a miscarriage. Many pregnancies end in that fashion. I could have been stillborn. Many babies are. ‘Why wasn’t I?’ I have frequently asked myself. If I said that none of those empty, negative, thoughts, feelings, and emotions have never crossed my mind? I would be lying. If I said that those empty, negative, thoughts, feelings, and emotions ever completely disappear? I would be lying.

For, like a ‘demon’, they continuously resurface themselves, they repeatedly haunt me.

Lately, this seemingly never-ending, palpable darkness of Depression has enveloped my heart and soul, leaving me feeling like I am an incredible burden who is merely taking up space. I’m just a grain of sand on the beach, just another star in our nighttime skies. Depression has made me feel like an incredible, cosmic, worthless failure whose Life will never amount to anything. Ever. Jeremy Michael is a handsome, intelligent, beautiful, successful pediatrician. I envy that. Why? Because each, and every one of my Lifelong dreams, ambitions, and aspirations—such as being an author—are a delusional lie. They’re shattered like broken liquor bottles on city streets. Ever since I graduated from High School—and to this day—my thick head has been filled to its rim with hard, difficult, still-unanswered questions. ‘Who am I? What is my calling in this Life? Do I even have one? Why am I here?’ These are common queries which I believe nearly every single human being asks themselves time and time again. But my case has always felt different somehow. For Depression long ago convinced me that I will never become anything important and meaningful. Ever.

I just want to be somebody, anything…. Is that so wrong?!

When I suffer from Depression, it always has been—based on my own description—a ‘high functioning’ case. I never, ever sleep hour, after hour, after hour away burrowed beneath warm, cozy blankets. No, I always leave the house, drive places, and go out. I’m not a crier, so when I suffer from Depression, I seldom ever sob. Instead…. I become a brooding, moody, irritable, agitated, edgy, angry jerk who has an incredibly bad attitude and is curt with her words. Ask Mom. Ask Dad. Ask Jeremy Michael. They will tell you the truth about my mood swings which only worsen when I suffer from Depression. Ask dear friends. They will tell you the truth about me.

When I suffer from Depression, I turn into an irritating and contemptible person.

Metaphorically speaking? I am like a mighty volcano. I can hold emotional, mental issues that are eating away at my heart, that are eating away at my soul, that are eating away at my insides, for several months. When I suffer from Depression, I always put on ‘brave’, ‘strong’, ‘courageous’ acts which show that—on the outside—I’m absolutely fine. But, deep down within, I am dying emotionally and mentally. However. Eventually, I erupt in anger, I explode in tears. For this mighty volcano has blown its top. When I suffer from Depression, I never lose interest in particular hobbies or activities that I enjoy—such as writing—for example. Why? Because I’ve always fought hard to keep doing the things that I love when I’m suffering from Depression!! Why? Because this is the one thing that Depression is not going to steal from me!! My happiness? Take it. My zeal and zest for Life? Take them. My will to live? Take it. But steal from me my love for writing—the only ability, talent, and gift that I can do and do well—as an artist?!

Absolutely not!!

My symptoms of Depression are definitely real. They’re not imaginary. For my self-diagnosed symptoms of Depression are convincing to me. They’re very, very, very valid. Aside from aforementioned issues of irritability? When I suffer from Depression, I experience persistent sad or ‘empty’ feelings. Aside from aforementioned issues of feeling worthless? When I suffer from Depression, I experience guiltiness. I feel utterly helpless. When I suffer from Depression, depending on my mood, I either overeat, I binge on nothing but chocolate, or I skip meals altogether. I—this natural-born optimist—experiences feelings of hopelessness, and pessimism. When I suffer from Depression, I always struggle with insomnia issues…. I either routinely awaken during the ungodly hours of five A.M….. Or I stay up way past midnight writing, because I do not want tomorrow to come. Which, I realize is illogical, delusional, unhealthy thinking, but thoughts, feelings, and emotions are thoughts, feelings, and emotions.

The human mind can be such a complicated instrument, especially when it is broken….

In correlation to my insomnia…. Routinely awakening during the ungodly hours of five A.M….. Sometimes staying up way past midnight…. I have even recently uncharacteristically randomly awoken around one A.M., as I lie in the pitch black darkness, just thinking, thinking, thinking. When I suffer from Depression, I obviously feel fatigued, and I experience a decreased energy level. Well…. Whenever I am not getting at least eight hours of sleep, my muscles, joints, and body always feel achy. To contradict those issues with insomnia? When I suffer from Depression, I frequently feel overwhelmingly mentally, and emotionally restless, like I have millions of tasks to accomplish, but very little time.

Such as writing fictional stories which will never, ever, become published, or sold in bookstores, for instance.

Now, I am the loner type—like many of my own characters who I’ve created, like Tony Stark/Iron Man—and when I suffer from Depression, {or if I’m struggling through yet another emotional, tearful mood swing}, I always pull away from those who love me, such as Mom, Dad, and Jeremy Michael. Or dear, wonderful, close friends. I mentally drop off of the face of the planet, meanwhile emotionally running from complex thoughts, feelings, and issues which are eating at me. That or I always ‘deal with it’…. Facing my Depression and issues head on…. All alone.

Because, nobody—myself included—wants to deal with any of it.

Although I’ve never attempted suicide, {such as pointing a gun against my temples, but having it misfire, for example}, when I was eighteen years old, I did battle constant, daily, hourly, second-to-second suicidal thoughts. Or so it seemed. I wanted more than anything to die. My mind contained various excuses which pointed toward reasons why I should no longer live. Yet, I fought—hard—against each and every suicidal thought. It was around that time when I acquired a little skill that I call ‘mental martial arts’. Which is sort of like the real deal, sans any physical, muscle-aching, shiner-earning pain. It’s mental jujitsu, and by now, I have definitely earned a black belt!! Hasn’t nearly everybody at some point throughout this brutal, beautiful Life, {this cruel world}, needed to employ a ‘tool’ for overcoming these thoughts, those feelings, these emotions—whether they are real or imaginary—yet all the same intense? While I’ve suffered from Depression time and time again throughout my adult Life, I would never—if memory serves me right—battle constant, daily, hourly, second-to-second suicidal thoughts ever again.

Until recently.

Metaphorically speaking? My emotions and feelings play me like an electric guitar, strumming away every single thought. They never truly stop, quit, or give up. For the ‘demons’ of Depression continuously lurk. These emotions and feelings may, or may not, be valid. But when I am vulnerable, they turn up their amp, thus playing me louder. Every thought, every feeling, and every emotion. As with many martial arts, you have an opponent. An opponent who wants more than anything to knock you down. In my case, ‘his’ name, obviously, is Depression. ‘He’ can defeat you until you’re rendered utterly defenseless. This is what Depression always does to me. ‘He’ causes emotional bruises, mental black eyes, and a psychological bloody nose. When I suffer from Depression, this ongoing, cosmic, palpable darkness—this dungeon, this prison cell—consumes my every thought.

I am always repeatedly knocked down.

Depending on what mood I am in, sometimes these suicidal thoughts are periodic, sometimes they’re frequent. Aside from aforementioned issues of thinking, and saying aloud that I am a cosmic, worthless, failure whose Life will never—ever—amount to anything? Lately, my ‘warning signs’ are—based on thorough research—thinking that this world would be better off without me in it. Everybody {Mom, Dad, Jeremy Michael, dear friends}, would simply move on…. Right? Aside from aforementioned issues of insomnia, deep sadness, binging on nothing but chocolate, or skipping meals? Lately, I have experienced countless sudden switches from being very sad, to being very calm, or appearing to be happy…. Like one extreme, never-ending mood swing. Aside from aforementioned issues of battling constant, daily, hourly, second-to-second suicidal thoughts? Lately, I am always thinking about death, or dying. To further complicate matters emotionally and mentally—as an artist—I’m a tragedian who frequently kills off her own characters in tragic deaths.

Which, I have gotten real good at.

Versatile musician, Bruce Springsteen has a profound, wise, true, straight-from-the-heart-and-soul quotation…. ‘If you don’t start unpacking your baggage, it gets heavier as you move along. The weight becomes impossible to carry, and it can get pretty messy.’ Now? As my Depression has gradually worsened, as my personal baggage has grown heavier, impossible to carry, and very heavy indeed…. While these twelve years-long, never-shut-up thoughts, feelings, emotions of being a cosmic, worthless failure whose Life will never—ever—amount to anything get seemingly much more amplified…. As these suicidal thoughts become even more frequent…. While my Lifelong dreams, ambitions, and aspirations are a lie…. I am now going to kill myself. But first, I have one final place to visit before I commit suicide. Dragonfly Lake. First, I have one final thing to experience before I kill myself. Camping. It is my one, and only ‘bucket list’ checkmark. Staying at Dragonfly Lake’s incredibly beauteous, woodland, beatific campsite.

Check.

So, I packed several bags. I threw everything—clothes, blankets, food, water, lemon lime soda, journals, pens, books, firewood, recycled newspaper, camping gear, chocolate for binging on—into the bed of my ‘old’ yellow and white-painted Chevrolet pickup truck. I was all alone this time. Mom and Dad lived together in their ‘empty nest’. Jeremy Michael resided alone as a single man. I drove toward Dragonfly Lake. I had a plan. After spending all week at Dragonfly Lake—reading the Bible, getting right with God, and seeking forgiveness after walking away from Him several years ago—I was going to drown myself in Dragonfly Lake’s sometimes warm, sometimes freezing cold waters. I also had a date of when I’d commit suicide. Friday, August 13^th, 2016. But first, God needed to show me the wonders of His creation!! For several consecutive days, I spied a female deer, wandering aimlessly and cautiously through Dragonfly Lake’s campgrounds!!

I quietly followed her until she disappeared into the woods!!

It felt as though God was sending me a message, loud and clear. That I should not commit suicide. For there is far too much Life to witness, enjoy, and live!! Right here, on Earth!! Like the incredibly breathtaking, mighty, often snow-covered Mt. Einstein. Or an owl that I heard hooting at midnight as I lie wide awake, thinking, thinking, thinking. Like Dragonfly Lake. Yes, it felt as though God was sending me a message loud and clear. That Heaven isn’t quite ready to welcome me Home, not yet!! So I should put one foot in front of the other, and keep breathing!! Because, to quote Bruce Springsteen from his song, ‘Badlands’…. ‘For the ones who had a notion, a notion deep inside; That it ain’t no sin to be glad you’re alive….’

But my mind was already made up, and even God—or Bruce—could not change it.

My weeklong stay at Dragonfly Lake was nearing a close. It would soon be time for me to leave. And finally, Friday, August 13^th arrived. The date of when I planned to commit suicide. Wow…. I was actually going to do it. I would finally—after all these years—make the ultimate call, and end my Life. Forever. I left a long, emotional, heart-wrenching suicide note on the driver’s seat in my ‘old’ yellow and white-painted 1970’s Chevrolet pickup truck. Either forest rangers, fellow campers, police detectives, Mom, Dad, or Jeremy Michael will discover it—eventually—after I am dead, long gone.

On twain pieces of journal paper—my heart pounding, my hands trembling—I wrote these words….

Dear Mom, Dad, and Jeremy Michael….

I have spent a good twelve years of this existence {from age eighteen to thirty}, privately, quietly, mightily battling self-diagnosed Depression, and feeling like I’m a cosmic, worthless failure whose Life will never—ever—amount to anything. Twelve years. I am not good enough. I’m my own worst enemy. And I am tired of this seemingly never-ending internal battle. Yes, these complex thoughts, feelings, and emotions come and go, come and go. But they always return to haunt me. And I am just…. Tired. The reasons why I have kept persevering, the reasons why I’ve continuously battled complex thoughts, feelings, emotions, Depression—and suicidal thoughts—is because…. Well…. I have also spent a good twelve years of this existence profoundly contemplating suicide. The pros, the cons, the positives, the negatives. Committing suicide—as judgmental as this is going to sound—feels like a selfish act. Why? Because even the loneliest person on this cruel planet—even the world’s biggest failure—has someone who loves them, and who will grieve his or her death. That being mentioned? I am sorry for ending my Life in this fashion. Mom, Dad, and Jeremy Michael…. I know that you will grieve my death. But you’ll also move on!! For this Life—this brutal, beautiful world—will be better off without me in it, anyway. Killing myself—as judgmental as this is going to sound—also feels like quitting…. Like giving up…. On Life. Why? Because—ultimately—it is giving up on Life. And I am no quitter. I’m a fighter. So, all this time—all these years—I have fought. Hard. Until now. Good-bye. I will close this letter with one cosmic question…. ‘Why does Life have to be so damn hard?!’ {Sorry Mom, I am swearing}.
Love, Hannah Louise

Very early in the morning—as Dragonfly Lake’s sleepy woods, and campgrounds surrounded me—I quietly hiked down toward its ‘beach’. This was before sunrise at 6:00 A.M.  Dragonfly Lake’s woods were dark, so I carried my flashlight. Crows cawed noisily and fellow campers’ dogs barked loudly. I hiked that dirt path…. This time, I wore a t-shirt, bra, blue jeans, panties, socks, and tennis shoes. I did not need my swimming suit. Nobody but me was on Dragonfly Lake’s ‘beach’ at this ungodly hour. I shone my bright flashlight around this beauteous, woodland, beatific place, and I breathed in God’s canvas painting scenery…. An incredibly breathtaking snow-covered Mt. Einstein. Green towering trees. A full moon illuminating an ebony black sky, and shining its beams against Dragonfly Lake. I smiled.

It was all the beauty that I could take in before I took my own Life.

“God, I have not been the best daughter to You,” I whispered as I looked Heavenward, “I’ve abandoned my Faith. I have walked away from You. I left my church congregation. I stopped reading Your Word, the Bible. I have lived a sinful Life. I mean…. I have not prayed so much in my entire Life as I have this past week. And I am so sorry. Please forgive me. I know that murder is a sin, and if I commit suicide, then I’ll be killing someone. But please accept me into Heaven, anyway. I am so, so, so, so, so sorry.”

Metaphorically speaking? I am a ‘surfer’ in Life’s frequently cosmic—but sometimes minuscule—uncharted ‘waters’. I have been for twelve long years. But when I suffer from Depression, an incredibly dangerous ‘hurricane surf’ of a ‘wave’ comes my way. I have learned how to take the ‘board’, and ‘ride’ Life’s cosmic uncharted waters. Which, I’ve gotten real good at. For I have twain choices. ‘Ride’ Life’s treacherous ‘surf waters’…. Or ‘drown’. That is my ultimatum. For it’s a ‘do-or-die’ situation emotionally and mentally. So, all these years, I have chosen to ‘surf’ Life’s cosmic, uncharted ‘waters’. Until now. Because today, I am going to drown myself. Literally.

Which is ironic, I know.

Wet, hot, tears streamed down my cheeks as I stepped into Dragonfly Lake’s freezing cold waters. I felt like screaming. It took all the willpower that I had, but I held it in. Screaming would have shot straight through Dragonfly Lake’s sleepy woods. And awaken all of the campers? No, screaming would have given away my plan. Step, by step, by step, I slowly walked deeper, and deeper, and deeper into the waters. My heart pounded hard. But I kept on walking. My knees shook. But I kept on walking. My entire body trembled. But I kept on walking. Dragonfly Lake’s still waters rose higher, and higher, and higher against my body. Past those shaking knees of mine. Up to my waist. Past my breasts. Then, I sunk down into Dragonfly Lake’s frightening drop-off. It happened so fast. My entire body soon became completely submerged into Dragonfly Lake’s waters.

Within minutes, I was dead.

The very moment when I exhaled my last breath, Heaven’s skies opened up, and were illuminated in a brilliant, beautiful, radiant pink-colored sunrise. God’s beauteous, woodland, beatific canvas painting called Dragonfly Lake was just glowing with light. It shone upon a snow-covered Mt. Einstein. The sunrise illuminated green towering trees. It reflected upon Dragonfly Lake’s waters. Even though I am Lifeless now, that brilliant, beautiful, radiant pink-colored sunrise felt very spiritual!! For it was God’s loving forgiving Arms welcoming me Home!! To Heaven!! At last, I was free from Depression’s mighty grasp, and every single emotional mental pain which continuously ate at my heart, ate at my soul, ate at my mind!! Delivered!! At last, I was liberated from my ‘demons’!!

Filled with new Life now, I can hear God’s angels singing….

"A Cautionary Tale"

You fail only if you stop writing. --Ray Bradbury

Blogging Friends.... The big 3-0. I remember as though it were just yesterday when I reached that milestone age over three years ago. I was reluctant about turning thirty. Not because it sounded 'old', but because this Life--this wonderful Life--had/has not turned out quite the way I hoped or planned it would. I mean.... I possess a broken, shattered, unobtainable dream of being an author and having my fictional stories published in bookstores which has not come true. I thought that surely by the time I turned thirty, my aspiration would have become Reality. So.... I was feeling like a cosmic failure whose Life will never--ever--amount to anything. Which, of course, I am not!! But sometimes thoughts, feelings and emotions are thoughts, feelings and emotions!! Right? Several years ago, during a particularly low season in my Life emotionally and mentally, I thought that if I wasn't going to become published in bookstores, then why am I creating fictional stories.... For naught? So, as resulted, I temporarily lost interest in creating fictional stories.... I was just not in the mood anymore. But I fought myself tooth and nail!! Yes, I battled hard emotionally for that Lifelong love of creating fictional stories!! And I'm so glad I did!! Because--other than a LONG break from creating fictional stories during The River Challenge--I never stopped writing!! I just kept creating fictional stories!! And, when I keep writing prolifically, {if you're me and you possess a crazy, never-shuts-down brain} then I am going to create seemingly countless fictional stories along the way!! It is simply inevitable!! In almost four year's time, I have gone from writing children's stories, to throwing 'genre' out the door, and meanwhile becoming a tragedian who frequently killed off her characters as I dealt with death, dying, loss, grief because of Grampa's LONG cancer journey. I am still exploring these issues.... But not as obsessively or intensely!! 'A Cautionary Tale' is my 30th posted fictional story.... Not my thirtieth WRITTEN fictional story.... But my 30th POSTED fictional story!! 'A Cautionary Tale' is an 'outtake', if you will. It was written sometime two years ago, before I started writing my fictional stories in first person. 'Stay hard, stay hungry, stay alive', Raelyn

Note.... I ran out of ways to creatively kill off my characters twain years ago. So I had one commit suicide. Because, why not? Suicide is real and it seemingly happens far too frequently....

"A Cautionary Tale"

Fears. Everybody possesses them. Whether they are seemingly irrational phobias. Such as a fear of the pitch black darkness. Or nonpoisonous, creepy, crawly, eight-legged spiders. Whether they are seemingly understandable phobias. Such as a fear of falling from someplace high. Or being diagnosed with an ongoing, terminal illness. There is literally a laundry list of phobias {in alphabetical order} which not only match these above fears, but that everybody can relate to. And when you are afraid of something? The fear feels very pathological. When you are afraid of something? You're mentally paralyzed by these fears. Nothing--and nobody--can reason or talk you out of them. Whether your fears are somewhat minuscule. Such as flying in mechanically-safe airplanes. Or your fears are somewhat cosmic. Such as being bitten by a poisonous snake. When you are afraid of something? Your fears do not feel--in any way shape or form--irrational. Because they are very, very, very real.

Eighteen-year old Lucia possessed twain fears. She was afraid of death and dying. Which, by the way, is called necrophobia. And--because Lucia could not swim--she was also afraid of drowning. Which--lest anybody wonder--is not the same thing as aquaphobia. For Lucia could take warm, relaxing, cleansing, soothing showers. Or hydrate her body with water. Lucia could dance outside in freezing, cold rainstorms. And that is because she did not possess a persistent and abnormal fear of water!! Just drowning. Which obviously leads Lucia straight back to her necrophobia issues. Because, after all, what if she died?

One morning, Lucia's cell phone rang. It was Ellington, her adventure-seeking, adrenaline-loving boyfriend.

"Hey, baby!!" said Ellington, "I have a good idea!! Let's go swimming in the ocean!! Or even better.... We can tackle the entire sea!! It will be fun!!"

Swim in the deep, deep, deep ocean?! thought Lucia, fear brewing up within her, No way!! I cannot swim!! I will drown in that saltwater!!

"Uh, no...." Lucia pridefully began, "Ell.... I.... I cannot swim the entire ocean.... I.... I just cannot....!!"

Ellington immediately sensed his lover's fears. But because Lucia had not shared the very fact with him that she couldn't swim, he was absolutely clueless.

"What is the matter?" he asked sweetly, "Are you afraid of shark attacks? They are very rare occurrences!! Luci, you do not need to be scared of any shark attacks!! The ocean is completely safe!! And besides, I will protect you from them, darling!!"

Aw, that is such a sweet thing to say.... Ell will protect me from a shark attack!! thought Lucia, But.... Forget the potential danger of being attacked by a shark!! I cannot swim!! And if I drown, I'll.... I'll.... I'll.... I'll die!!

"No...." said Lucia, "I am not afraid of shark attacks.... I wasn't even thinking about that until you brought it up, Ell!! Sharks are beautiful, incredible, fascinating creatures.... I just.... No. I cannot go....!!"

"Alright...." Ellington said softly, "We do not have to swim the entire ocean!!"

Then he let it go and hung up his cell phone.

But several weeks later, Ellington drove to Lucia's house with yet another suggestion.

"Whew!!" said Ellington, as he used a red-colored bandana to wipe away his own dripping, wet, greasy, oily sweat, "It is, like, one-hundred-plus degrees outside!! What a heat wave!!"

"Oh, I know!!" agreed Lucia, "Close the door, Ell!! I have my air conditioner going!! You are letting in the heat!!"

"Well, turn your air conditioner off!!" said Ellington, "Let's go to an indoor water park!! They should have air conditioning!! Not that we will even care about that!! Why? Because we will be soaking wet!!"

A water park?! thought Lucia, fear once again brewing up within her, No way!! You mean those places with darkened tube slides that always end in deep, deep, deep chlorine water-filled pools? No way!! You mean those places with long, winding slides that always end in deep, deep, deep chlorine water-filled pools? I cannot swim!!

"No!!" Lucia adamantly protested.

Ellington's brow furrowed. For he was taken aback from Lucia's reaction!! She then made some lame excuses in an effort to talk herself out of going.

"Uh.... There will be huge crowds at a water park...." said Lucia, "Especially because it is indoor.... With air conditioning, like you said.... Not to mention, cold water.... Everybody will have the same idea, Ell.... Isn't there a movie playing somewhere in an air conditioned theater....? You know.... Something that we would like to see....?"

"Alright, darling," said Ellington, "Okay, okay.... We can go and see a movie!!"

Ellington logged onto Lucia's laptop to check films that were showing.

"How about The Avengers?" he suggested.

"Um.... Robert Downey Jr.?" said Lucia with a huge grin written on her face at last, "Tony Stark? Iron Man? Need I say any more?!"

"That is right, you love Robert Downey Jr.!!" said Ellington with a huge smile written on his face, "No, you need not say any more!! It just makes me feel happy inside to see your smile, darling!!"

"Well, I am a Robert Downey Jr. fangirl!!" gushed Lucia, "Isn't he just so cute, hot and sexy as Tony Stark?! I do love that 'schmuck in transition'!!"

So they saw The Avengers together!!

But several weeks later, Lucia drove to Ellington's house. And--being an adventure-seeking, adrenaline-loving guy, he had yet another suggestion.

"I have a good idea!!" said Ellington, "Let's drive on up to Rocky River!! We can rent a canoe there and row it out!! Doesn't that sound like fun?! There should be breathtaking views of partially snow-covered mountains on our canoe ride...."

"What is it with you and water-related activities?!" interrupted Lucia, "First it was to swim the entire ocean. Then an indoor water park. And now you want to canoe down Rocky River?! Water!! Water!! Water!! That is all you ever think about!! Water!!"

"Well, it is not all I think about, darling," said Ellington with a loving smile written on his face, as he looked deep into Lucia's face, "But.... It is Summertime.... And we are still suffering from a huge heat wave, after all...."

Ellington paused, for he could sense that something was bothering his lover.

"Luci...." he softly said, "What is wrong?"

Lucia did not answer.

"Come on, darling, you can tell me," he gently pressed, "I am your boyfriend!! Luci.... What is wrong?"

Wet, hot, tears suddenly streamed down Lucia's face.

"Ell...." she finally burst out, "I.... I.... I.... I cannot swim...."

"Ah, I understand now," Ellington softly said, "You are not terrified of being attacked by sharks, at all!! Or water, even. You are frightened of drowning!! And rightfully so."

"Yes...." said Lucia, as she sobbed uncontrollably, "But you don't understand, Ell....!! You're not afraid of drowning.... You can swim....!! You're not terrified of deep, deep, deep waters.... You don't have to wear uncomfortable, bright orange-colored, embarrassing-looking life vests...."

"But I do understand," Ellington gently said, "You're feeling embarrassed and ashamed that you cannot swim. Because everybody else in the entire world possesses that ability. Or so it seems."

"Yes...." said Lucia, as she brushed the wet, hot, tears from her eyes.

"But not everybody can swim," Ellington gently encouraged, "My grandfather never learned how!!"

"Really...." said Lucia, as she blinked back wet, hot tears.

"It is true!!" said Ellington, "So I do understand, darling. I get your thoughts, feelings, emotions and fears. I mean it. I do."
 

"I know I should have told you that I cannot swim...." said Lucia, as wet, hot, tears freely streamed down her face, "Lovers aren't supposed to keep secrets from each other.... I am an incredible failure of a girlfriend....!! I have disappointed and let you down...."

"Oh, Luci," Ellington gently said, as he wrapped his loving, strong, muscular arms around her, "Stop. You're not 'an incredible failure of a girlfriend'!! And you definitely haven't 'let me down', darling!! Not in any way, shape or form!!"

"Ell...." confessed Lucia, "I have yet another secret to share with you.... I also suffer from necrophobia.... I am afraid of death and dying...."

"So is my grandfather," Ellington gently said.

However. Lucia's negative thoughts, feelings and emotions were much more profound than keeping twain Lifelong secrets from Ellington. For she also suffered from Depression. Whenever yet another cosmic tidal wave of the mental illness emotionally overwhelmed her, Lucia always transformed into an isolated loner. For no family, no friends, no doctor, no psychiatrist--not even Ellington--completely understood the demons that she constantly battled. Because during bouts of Depression? Lucia withdrew herself mentally and emotionally from everybody. She simply lived with Depression. Lucia employed her unhealthy coping mechanism of mentally running away from complex thoughts, feelings and emotions. Because after all. That is the easy route!!

Although her Depression was undiagnosed and therefore untreated, she still felt completely hopeless. Lucia was often irritable toward family, friends, co-workers.... And Ellington. She also felt completely helpless. Lucia was very pessimistic. She also felt completely empty within her heart and soul. Lucia suffered from insomnia. As resulted, she felt fatigued and had a decrease in her energy levels. Yet at the same time, Lucia also--oddly enough--felt restless. Wet, hot, tears frequently streamed down her face for no apparent reason. Lucia also felt prideful and guilty of her Depression. Because, after all. What will people think? Lucia felt completely useless. She was convinced that her Life will never--ever--amount to anything important and meaningful. As resulted, Lucia felt like a cosmic, worthless failure. And she also battled constant, deeply private, daily, second-to-second thoughts of suicide.

It feels.... thought Lucia, Like I am drowning in the deep, deep, deep waters of Depression.... I'm drowning....

Wet, hot, tears streamed down her face, as she curled up into a fetal position.

But.... thought Lucia, I just need to swim through it....

She was always, always, always alone during her lowest, darkest, emotional and mental moments.

I must learn how to surf these deep, deep, deep waters of Depression.... thought Lucia, I am alright.... I'm fine.... I am okay.... I will deal with this....

But Lucia was neither alright, fine, nor okay. For over the years--especially during her lowest emotional and mental moments--she had contemplated suicide options.

Should I.... Lucia often thought, Purchase me a gun and shoot myself in the head....?

Should I.... Lucia frequently thought, Find me a tall, tall, tall building somewhere and jump off of it....?

Decisions, decisions, decisions.... Lucia often thought, There is literally a laundry list of suicide options....!!

One morning {during an incredibly low moment} Lucia wrote with trembling, unstable hands a brief goodbye letter to Ellington. Wet, hot, tears streamed down her face the entire time.

Ell,

Life is hard. I have never had a best friend. {That is, until you entered my Life!!} I have never felt a real connection with anyone. {That is, until you entered my Life!!} I have never had a like-minded community. {That is, until you entered my Life!!} I always longed to have a best friend like in Bruce Springsteen's song, 'Bobby Jean' {....'there ain't nobody, nowhere and nohow, gonna ever understand me the way you did'....} And then.... You entered my Life!! I am so sorry, Ell. You provided my Life with everything that I ever dreamed of, wanted or needed. But I guess it wasn't good enough.... I am not good enough. I'm so sorry, Ell. I have to end my own Life like this.... Goodbye, Ell. Why does Life have to be so damn hard?!

Love, Luci

She then drove down toward a deep, deep, deep, rushing, flowing river. Was it to enjoy its beautiful, serene, scenic views? No. While facing her twain deepest fears head-on--dying and drowning--Lucia stepped foot into the freezing cold river waters. Then slowly--while fully clothed--she kept walking. The deep, rushing, flowing river waters rapidly rose higher and higher and higher against her body. Past Lucia's shaking knees. Up to her waist. Past Lucia's breasts. She repeatedly glanced behind her back to make certain that nobody was watching. Although Lucia's heart pounded hard, she actually did not panic about drowning. Or dying, for that matter. Lucia quickly submerged her head into the river. And that was it. As her body painfully whipped against sharp rocks across the river {within minutes} Lucia was dead.

Meanwhile, Ellington had previously planned on driving to his lover's house around noon that day. Which was exactly what he did. Ellington brought over Lucia's choice of delicious, spicy, mouth-watering, juicy orange chicken and fried rice from Panda Express for lunch. He unlocked her white, magnetic, front door. But instead of happily greeting Ellington with an embrace and a kiss, she was nowhere to be found.

"Luci!!" he called, with a smile written on his face, "Where are you? I brought Chinese food!! Can you smell it's delicious, mouth-watering aroma?"

But there was no answer back.

"Luci?" said Ellington, now with a quizzical expression written on his face, "Darling, are you in the bathroom?"

But before Ellington could even listen for Lucia's reply, he saw her note.

"'I have to end my own Life like this'?!" he read aloud, "'Goodbye'?!"

Ellington's heart raced, as panic brewed within his heart and soul.

"Oh my gosh!!" he said, "This.... This.... This.... This is a suicide note!! Luci!! Where are you, darling?! Luci!!"

Ellington threw the bag of Panda Express food onto her kitchen counter. Its force crushed both of their vanilla-flavored fortune cookies. He frantically ran all throughout Lucia's house. Bathrooms? No!! Her bedroom? No!! The living room? No!! Her backyard? No!!

"I haven't any idea where Luci is!!" Ellington frantically said aloud, "Or even in which fashion that she...."

Ellington swallowed hard at that very emotionally painful thought of his lover committing suicide.

"....Killed herself...." he said, "Think, Ellington, think!! Time is the essence here!! If Luci did.... Commit suicide.... Where could she possibly be? If Luci did.... Kill herself.... How, exactly, would she do it?"

Ellington picked up his cell phone and punched in Lucia's number. Her cell phone rang. Rang. Rang. Rang. And it rang some more.

"Was it an overdose of pain medications?!" Ellington wondered aloud, "Did Luci hang herself?! But she suffers from necrophobia...."

Lucia's cell phone--which lie in her abandoned 'old' 1970's baby blue-painted Ford pickup truck--was immediately directed to voicemail.

"Damn it!!" whispered Ellington.

Hello, this is Lucia's cell-phone number, said the prerecorded message, I'll call you back when I can!! Leave a message at the beep.

"Luci!!" yelled Ellington, "Are you there?! Answer your phone!! Luci!! Do not kill yourself!! I love you, darling!!"

Then Ellington hung up his cell phone. He immediately tried again. No response.

Hello, this is Lucia's cell-phone number, said the prerecorded message, I'll call you back when I can!! Leave a message at the beep.

"Luci!!" yelled Ellington, "It is me again. Pick up your phone, darling!! Luci!! Where the hell are you?!"

Then Ellington hung up his cell phone.

"The police department!!" Ellington finally said aloud, "Although I do not know how much help they can be, since I haven't got any clues to offer them. I mean, I don't even know where Luci is!! Or even...."

Ellington paused.

"....Or even if she is still alive!! Luci!! Where are you?!"

"Hello, this is Graceland from the Los Angeles police department," said a woman, "How may I help you?"

"Graceland?!" said Ellington, with a smirk written on his face, "Like the place in Memphis, Tennessee?!"

"Yes, my Dad was a huge Elvis Presley fanatic," explained Graceland, "And he named me!!"

But Graceland was all business and not in any mood for chatting.

"Sir?" she asked, "What were you calling for?"

Countless thoughts, feelings and emotions overcame Ellington all at once. He tried hard to maintain his composure.

"I think that my girlfriend.... Her name is Lucia...." began Ellington, "Committed suicide.... But I do not know how.... Or even where she is right now...."

"Let me get this straight," said Graceland, with a cold, hardness in her voice, "You 'think' that your girlfriend committed suicide. However.... You do not know for certain?"

"Luci left me a suicide note...." said Ellington, as wet, hot, tears streamed down his face, "And she will not answer her phone, because I have already tried that approach.... Please, Graceland.... Help me...."

"Alright, we will send some police detectives to investigate on this missing person/'potential' suicide case," said Graceland.

"Oh, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!!" said Ellington, with a sense of relief in his voice, "Thank-you very much!!"

"What is your name, sir?" asked Graceland.

"Ellington...." he answered.

"And what is Lucia's home address?" asked Graceland.

"Uh, it is 1010 South East 75th Court, Los Angeles, California, 54321...." answered Ellington.

"Do you have any current, up-to-date photos of Lucia?" asked Graceland.

"Yes...." answered Ellington, "But they are all inside my phone.... I have a lot of pictures...."

"And I assume that you called Lucia from your cell phone," said Graceland.

"Yes, I did...." said Ellington.

"What is your cell phone's number that our police detectives can call to contact you?" asked Graceland.

"Uh, it is 777-5555...." answered Ellington.

"Make certain that your cell phone is well charged up and keep it with you at all times," said Graceland, "Our police detectives may--or may not--need it in order to locate Lucia's whereabouts. Also, have her 'suicide note' be readily available. It can serve as potential evidence. And stay right where you are."

Then Graceland hung up her phone.

Wait a minute.... thought Ellington, as wet, hot, tears streamed down his face, If Luci really did.... Kill herself.... Then this suicide note is not only 'potential evidence'.... But it also doubles as the last precious handwritten letter that I would have received from my lover....

Gingerly, Ellington picked up Lucia's suicide note. He then walked toward her copy machine, and gave himself a keepsake version.

This looks so different from Luci's original suicide note.... thought Ellington, as he wiped away wet, hot, tears from his eyes, Wow.... It looks so fake.... Oh well.... It will have to do....

Then Ellington waited for the police detectives' arrival. And waited. And waited. And waited some more.

Ellington sighed deeply.

Time always seems to pass by slowly when you are waiting.... he thought.

Ellington was no longer feeling hunger pangs shoot through his stomach. So he put the Panda Express food inside Lucia's refrigerator. Ellington then picked up his fully charged cell phone. He attempted to call Lucia once more. Just like before, she did not pick up.

Hello, this is Lucia's cell-phone number, said the prerecorded message, I'll call you back when I can!! Leave a message at the beep.

"Luci!!" yelled Ellington, "Where the hell are you?! I am getting very worried!! Luci!! I called the police and they are on their way...."

Just then? There was a loud, hard, knocking against Lucia's front door. The police detectives had arrived!!

"....Goodbye, darling!!" Ellington abruptly said.

He immediately hung up his cell phone, unlocked the door and opened it.

"Hi, my name is Elizabeth," said a female, brunette-haired, blue-eyed police detective, "And this is my partner, Conner."

Elizabeth shook hands with Ellington.

"We have been informed that you think your girlfriend Lucia committed suicide," she began, with a much softer tone of voice than Graceland's.

"But...." added Conner, "You currently do not know how Lucia killed herself.... Or even where she is?"

"That's right...." said Ellington, as wet, hot, tears streamed down his face.

"But Lucia did leave you a suicide note?" said Elizabeth, "Where is it?"

Ellington pointed to the kitchen counter where Lucia's suicide note lie. He wiped away wet, hot, tears from his eyes. Both Elizabeth and Conner read Lucia's lonely, desolate, last words.

"This suicide note is so vague!!" said Conner, "It lacks countless clues such as Lucia's whereabouts or how, exactly, she killed herself. This is so frustrating!! But you tried to call Lucia's cell phone. Correct?"

"Yes, about two or three times...." answered Ellington, as wet, hot, tears streamed down his face, "But she will not answer my calls...."

"Did you leave any voicemail messages on Lucia's cell phone?" asked Elizabeth.

"Every single time...." answered Ellington, as he wiped away wet, hot tears from his eyes.

"Let me see your cell phone," said Conner.

Ellington handed it to the police detective. First Conner looked at Lucia's photographs.... Then he retraced all three of her lover's frantic voicemail messages. Conner listened to them. He even read several undeleted text messages. Elizabeth then pulled out her laptop computer.

"Lucia's vehicle is located at Rocky River," said Elizabeth.

"Let's go!!" said Conner.

Elizabeth looked at Ellington.

"You may follow us to Rocky River," she said, "But based on what we may--and will probably--find there, I highly recommend against it. Not to mention the fact that you have a deeply personal connection with this case."

"Let's go, Elizabeth!!" Conner impatiently ordered.

And follow the police detectives, Ellington did!! His heart pounded hard, with dark, surreal fears freely rushing through him like the waters in Rocky River. There were also literally countless questions that remained unanswered. Ellington quickly hopped into his 'old' 1970's yellow and black-painted Ford pickup truck, started her engine and drove away from Lucia's house.

"Please do not commit suicide, Luci...." whispered a hopeful--yet very frightened--Ellington during his drive toward Rocky Lake, "We will work everything out together.... Everything.... Please do not be dead, darling...."

Ellington blinked back wet, hot tears and kept driving.

Once they arrived at Rocky River, Conner thoroughly searched Lucia's 'old' 1970's baby blue-painted Ford pickup truck for clues or evidence which could lead to her whereabouts. He found nothing but her cell phone. Conner picked it up. He then looked at photographs and selfies of Ellington posing with Lucia. Conner even read through several undeleted text messages. Meanwhile, Elizabeth--with a worried-sick Ellington following closely behind--searched Rocky River for Lucia's corpse. And--during several quick nanoseconds--she found it. Lucia's soaking wet, bruised, bloodied Lifeless body lie face-down against a large rock. Ellington could feel his heart stop beating.... Literally. Complex thoughts, feelings and emotions seared through him. He was rendered utterly speechless.

Elizabeth looked at Ellington.

"Are you alright....?" she gently asked him, "Now, I am going to turn 'Lucia' over so that we can see her face clearly. Can you handle this....?"

Ellington didn't answer, not even with the nodding of his head. Suddenly, any optimistic hope that he held within himself for Lucia's survival disappeared.

No, I cannot handle this.... was all he could think, as wet, hot tears streamed down his face, Because it is Luci.... I can feel it.... No, I am not alright.... But thank-you for asking.... It is Luci.... I just know.... Luci.... Oh my.... Luci....

Elizabeth respectfully turned the corpse over. She gingerly lifted Lucia's closed eyelids. And then Ellington saw her. His lover. Ellington looked away, for he was now overcome with emotion.

"Oh, no, no, no, no!!" yelled Ellington, "It is her.... That's Luci's beautiful bright-as-a-red-sunrise hair that I find so attractive.... It is her.... That's Luci's fair, white-as-the-snow skin that I love so much.... It is her.... Those are Luci's green-as-jade eyes that sparkled like diamonds.... Oh, no, no, no, no!!"

"I am so very sorry for your loss, Ellington...." said Elizabeth, "Please accept my most heartfelt condolences...."

"I do not understand...." said Ellington, as wet, hot tears streamed down his face, "Luci.... She was terrified of drowning.... Luci.... She absolutely refused to partake in any water-related activities with me.... And Luci.... She also suffered from necrophobia.... You see, Luci.... She was frightened of death and dying.... I just do not understand, Elizabeth.... How can Luci--who was so afraid of drowning and dying--commit suicide.... In this fashion?! I mean.... Luci faced her own death.... By drowning.... Herself.... In Rocky River.... Luci.... Bravely faced both of her fears head-on.... It just makes no sense to me....!!"

"Perhaps Lucia was more scared of Life than dying...." Elizabeth gently said, "But that is only an assumption.... Perhaps Lucia was more afraid of living everyday with her crippling Depression than drowning...."

"I just...." said Ellington, as wet, hot tears continued to fall down his face, "I cannot believe that Luci is dead.... I never knew about her struggles with Depression, you know.... I did not see the writing on the wall.... I--Luci's boyfriend--never knew about her struggles with Depression...."

Then Ellington let out a mournful cry, a yell, a scream that echoed all through the forest.

"Why....?" he said, as wet, hot tears fell down his face.

Elizabeth then offered Ellington a clean handkerchief. Which he gratefully accepted!! Ellington wiped his wet, red, bloodshot eyes with it. But Elizabeth offered far more to Ellington than a handkerchief. She offered him her friendship....