It's been exactly one week since my brother killed himself... rather horribly. The truth is that it's been bothering me alot. He had a perfect life... a PERFECT life. He has the most gorgeous woman for a wife, and three top-of-the-class gorgeous daughters. He had a successful small business, an absolutely wicked automobile, and perhaps the most perfect little house I've ever seen. Even his pets are perfect little creatures of dignity and friendship. He had no reason to die, but he did anyway. And the worst part is that instead of grieving like a normal human being, I feel nothing but anger towards him. Anger that he was the "smart one", but he still somehow managed to think that death was a better option than his "horrible" life. What sort of fucking moron does that?