Someone I hadn't seen in a while, but nonetheless loved as a friend and person, killed herself Friday night.

I feel sick, angry, sad, confused, depressed, sorry, useless, shocked, fucked up. Mostly, I wish that the world still had her in it, and that her time here would be happier than it had been.

It might be tacky or whatever, but right now I echo the worst fear of Major Garland Briggs from Twin Peaks: "that love is not enough."

I am so, so sorry. I love you.