I learned of a friend’s death this past weekend. His passing came as a surprise naturally because he’s the same age as I am, perhaps a year older by his family’s reckoning. I’ve known him since 1992, when we were in junior high school together. I still remember him picking on me then with his best buddy Mark; he was talking to me while Mark got on the ground behind me, and he pushed me over and I tripped back and over Mark. Kids can be so cruel sometimes.

Our friendship grew over the years and during high school he stood up for me against a group of Taiwanese gangsters who were jealous that I was trying to ask one of their chicks out for a date. They went so far as to sending a threatening letter to me. My friend went up to them and made them realise that I was not someone they could threaten.

During this time, before and after, we would hang out, like nerdy kids playing with his new toy, a 486DX-33 PC. We would take quarter trips to the mall on a local shuttle that the city ran. Man, we were so bored!  We would often walk home together and talk about girls. He was always so serious!

And of course, like every high school friendship then (and now), we split, he found new friends whom I thought were ill-advised to be his friends, and eventually we lost contact after we graduated high school. Of course, I had no say in who his friends were going to be, so that’s that.

And neither could I had done anything to prevent his fate.

The last conversation I had with him, I remember faintly, was in late 1999, when I had taken a trip down to Los Angeles to visit a few of my old partners in crime. I was surprised to hear from him and even so far as meet with him! We spoke of chicks, of course; my ex-girlfriend in particular, at a time when I was suffering from a severe case of unrequited love.

And that was then. I have not seen him, not spoken to him since. I had heard he fell from grace, did a few unhealthy things, both to himself and to his family, and now, gone.

The truth of what happened may still lie with his family, or his few friends (if he had any). I know not of the details. Perhaps that is the way it should be. I can’t help but feel a little responsible for his loss, but I can’t shake the feeling of anger and disappointment at him.

From what I’ve heard, he committed suicide. In my beliefs, only cowards take that road. Only those who have no courage to continue the hard road, to face the consequences of failure, and the hardship of rebuilding. I thought as he did once, before Hannah set me straight: she was quite impressive about the art of quitting. I learned from her that suicide is not an option because there are those around you who would also be hurt from your decision, there is your family, your friends!! What are you thinking???

It’s hard to believe, a man so gifted, with so much potential, met such a disappointing fate. He graduated at the top of our class in 1997. I had hoped to see him again during our 10-year reunion this year. He was one of the best writers in our AP English class during our sophomore year. I can still remember Mrs. Brooks’ pride in his accomplishments, and my envy in his skill and appreciation. And yet we were best friends then. We took quarter trips to the mall and shot a BB gun to see if we could hit bottles and got into fist fights just to see if it hurt and ….. and …

I have decided to take a trip to LA to visit him soon, although I still don’t have a date. This visit will be late, as I often am lately, late. I’ve been late before, and for Lam, I will forever be late. But I had also always wished to find him someday. I will continue to search for him for the rest of my life.

I will never forget … Lam, my friend, whom I have let down.