It's been one month today that my friend was killed in a car wreck. Tomorrow will be one month since my father killed himself. It's tears me up inside. I try to talk to people and they always think they understand, they don't. They really don't. I wasn't raised with my bio father. I was raised with another man. He took me in as his own. He died when I was just seven years old. That completely shattered me. My life turned upside down. I felt lost. I hoped I'd never feel that way again, but I have. I was 12 when i got a letter in the mail from my bio dad. He wanted to see me. It was a dream come true. I had been longing to see him my whole life. I wanted to know more. So when I was 13 I met him for the first time. He was so much fun. Such a free spirit. He beat to his own drum. Fast forward a bit. At 17 I got pregnant. As my son got older, he became curious as all children do. When he was one he stuck my cellphone in his diaper and basically killed it. I lost ALL numbers, including my dad's. Just recently in Oct. I emailed my grandmother asking for his number. I just felt I needed to talk to him. She gave it to me. I called and text. 2 weeks later he replied and so we started talking again. He asked where was the first place we met. He expressed to me how he thought I quit talking to him bc I didnt want him in my life. I told him what happened. He seemed to have understood. I then sent him a text telling him I wanted him to be in my son's life. I told him the man that raised me was gone and had been for awhile. I said my son would never know him, so I wanted to give him a chance to be there. I was forgiving him for not being there while I was growing up. I never got a reply. I didn't know why. I thought maybe bc he had no minutes on his phone...so I waited. The only thing I got back was a phone call for the coroner's office telling me he killed himself. I cried. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Why now? Why again? I was next of kin. I'm only 19. They didn't tell me why he did it. They only told me how and where. I tried emailing his mom, calling numbers in phonebooks trying to get ahold of somebody, anybody who could tell her. I was up for 3 days. I couldn't eat, nor sleep. I was dying inside. I finally found them on Facebook. I was desperate. They never knew. They had no clue. I passed over my rights bc I couldn't give him as nice of a funeral as they could. They couldn't retrieve his vehicle bc it wasn't registered in his name. UGH! Sometimes I regret telling them. They didn't seem very grateful. I don't think they would've gone through as much work to find me. I didn't even know them. I had only met my grandma once and never met any other relative on his side at that point. I finally met them all at his viewing. I stayed with them for a week. I asked them questions about him, but they didn't seem to know the answers. Maybe they were hiding it from me. I don't know. I just want so much to know if he read that last message. I feel the need to know. It's constantly on my mind. I can't seem to let it go. I need to know if he knew I was forgiving him. That I was letting go of the past. All I wanted was my dad. It's tearing me up inside, especially at night.