I've thought about suicide, many times. I could easily open my mouth, place the cold, nickle-plated barrel against the back of my throat, and release. I could but I won't. I have to know the truth. They say curiousity killed the cat. Will it also kill me? Or am I imagining it all? Could I be so overwhelmed with grief over what I did that I'm hallucinating? Maybe I'm just crazy. We shall see.