Being Pitied Doesn't Make You Pitiful

In the hospital Nick and I had both seen each other at our worst, witnessed weaknesses that people usually hide, and shared an experience that few other human beings could understand.  It felt like we had been on the front lines, and now I was being sent back stateside.

Nick and I had some good times together there.  But he never recovered much function and grew increasingly depressed about his life.  He wasn't able to find anything that made him happy.  He believed that because people pitied him, he was pitiful.  He dulled the pain by smoking weed and then got into cocaine.  He fought his addictions, but a few years later, his father called to let me know that Nick had overdosed on drugs and died.

Breaking your neck can be a real bitch.

He was a good friend.

I still miss him.

Pg 151