Villie, an adorable, young man who was 24 at the time, lived in Australia. I was 13, and I was American but I always would go visit him. Over this summer of 2011 I was visiting him by myself for the first time. A taxi picked me up, and that was as planned, though I wasn’t told about a taxi…. Villie was gay and his boyfriend was actually supposed to come pick me up, and I thought that was odd… But when I got there, Villie’s truck was outside, and his door was unlocked. I had gone inside and he wasn’t there. I called his name, nothing.
I walked into his room-
I walked into the bathroom and cried. He had killed himself, writing a suicide note in his own blood on the wall. Saying, “I’m sorry.”
And I had lay down next to him, and i held him in my arms, crying. Horribly.
I miss you Villie</3