There is a bench near my home that I visit and think about a man that I have never met.
I do not know for sure why I am drawn to that place, or why I want to stay there when I arrive.
It is a place that should be filled with sadness, but it brings me peace that I can't explain.
I think he sits with me when I am there, but I cannot see him.
Perhaps he is happy that I have come to the place that he last visited.
Maybe he likes the joy that I carry to this space.
This bench where he sat.
This bench where he sat, and pulled out a gun.
This bench where he sat, pulled out a gun, and ended his own life.