"What's depression like?" He asked.

Be what he could've been.

To lose someone to suicide is one of the worst ways to lose someone. You never get a chance to really say goodbye. You maybe get a letter, but you'll never be able to give that person a last hug.

Suicide leaves your loved ones behind stunned. Confused. Angry. Surrounded with darkness without a single thing to hold on to, because you're gone so suddenly, that everything around them shatters. Their whole world collapses. Everything breaks, including themselves.

Suicide leaves wounds that aren't visible to the eye, but hurt probably more than any physical pain that can ever be experienced. It's as if everything you are, everything you want to be and everything you have ever been, gets ripped apart.

You're nothing.

Nothing matters anymore. Everywhere you turn you see the face of the person you lost. Everything you do, everything you hear.

Whatever you'll every try, you will never be able to forget, because one day you'll graduate, marry, have children, go to the most beautiful place in the world and the person you lost so many years ago won't ever be able to experience certain things. They won't ever be able to experience those things with you.

At first I was incredibly angry when my friend left me. I was so incredibly pissed off that he was the one to give up, while we had been fighting together. I couldn't understand why he would let me fight this battle alone.

Now, four years later, I realize that he knew I wasn't alone at that time. I had all my other friends and so he thought that that was enough. That even without him, I would be able to survive.

Up till now he has been right. Surviving without him by my side is painful. It has been throughout all those four years and I think it will always be painful.

When people say your lost one wouldn't want to see you sad, it breaks something inside of you. Ofcourse I know he wouldn't want me to be sad, but it's impossible for me not to be. The pain that a sudden goodbye leaves, is so strong and so big, that there's nothing else but sadness. Sadness, emptiness, darkness, pain. All at once, all together.

Two days from now, on October 7th 2009, Mason Finn Stone committed suicide at an age of 13 years, 3 months and 27 days.

I miss him more than will ever be able to express and even though there are days when I want nothing but to follow him, I'm alive. I'm trying to live for me, I'm trying to live a little bit for him.

I will try to be what he could've been.

He will always be a part of me, even though he's no longer with me on earth.

Mason, I love you very much.

- Kyran