He Was a Friend of Mine

His name was Urs.

He had curly hair, glasses, and an adorable Swiss German accent. On the shorter side of average height, and a pretty sharp (but understated!) dresser. A great conversationalist, and smart as a whip. Sweet and endearing, with his whole life ahead of him. A very bright young man who had quite a future in philosophy (or, most likely, any damn thing he put his mind to).

All of it changed when he decided to take matters into his own hands. He ended his life, by himself, of his own accord, two days ago. No one knows why. He left no note, and there were no outward indications (a break-up, an illness, a rejection letter, nothing) of anything "wrong". Seems we will never know why he left us here. In the last email he wrote how happy he was to be coming back to San Diego at the end of January, and to see Nat and i. Nat shouted to me in the other room with the news, he was so excited.

But Urs will never know about that conversation. He never saw our smiles or heard our mental gears whirring with possibilities of dinners, games, journeys.

The last time i saw Urs we went to dinner with him and his girlfriend. We had Indian food. The waiter brushed against his girlfriend's boobs. It was hilarious. (trust me.) We drove home listening to "An Elvis Christmas" and then played a few rounds of Boggle. Urs kept calling it "Boogle"; as a non-native English speaker, it was not his best game but he played it well anyway. We were listening to a playlist on my iPod and suddenly he stopped and looked up at me: what is this song?

It's 'Perfidia', from th–

–soundtrack to 2046, right?

Yes! Do you know this song, Urs?

Turns out he knew the song well. And loved it. And had never been able to find it anywhere. i explained how it took me a whole afternoon/evening of searching to get it, but that i was so happy i'd found it. He requested a copy of it, and late the next day i sent him the mp3 through our email.


Sometimes i wish i'd never sent him that damn song.