I miss you

Jim.
God dammit Jim.
Why did you take yourself away from us? Why did you have to end your life? Why didn’t you reach out when I was leaving our apartment and say “No, I need your help.”? Did you see your mom breaking apart as she was carrying a little pine box with her youngest son’s ashes in? Did you see her last goodbye to you? Did you see my pain, my shattering the half empty wine bottle against the unfeeling asphalt because it hurt so bad and I still couldn’t scream and cry out for you? Did you see Nick when he texted me the news? Your brother when he confirmed to me that it was suicide? Your dad unable to work?
Please. I miss you. If you are out there somewhere, let me know you’re doing better.