Suicide Anonymous - Chapter 1

         “How are you today?”
         The line to have me, Dr. Joseph Williams, sign people’s copies of my book, Feed Yourself, suggested that I would have to fight back my tears all day.
         “I’m doing great, Dr. Williams. Yourself?”
         And no, these were not the tears of joy that usually accompany an author with such a grand turnout at his book signing.
         “I’m fine. Never been better.”
         You see, though my career as an author and motivational speaker had taken off and I was rolling in the dough, my world currently held no meaning.
         “Thanks for coming to this event. I hope that you love the book because I’ve put my soul into these pages.”
         No meaning whatsoever.
         “Nobody knows self-help like you, Joseph.”
         Well, it had had purpose up until that very morning when the news reached me.
         “You’re too kind. You’ve fed me, now don’t forget to feed yourself. Next!”
         If only we hadn’t had that fight. Then maybe…
         “Hello, Doctor. This is my son, Billy.”
         “Welcome, Billy. You look like a good reader, is that right?”
         No. Nothing that I could have said would have changed her mind.
         “I guess so. Reading is fun. Did you really get all of these people to come because of your book?”
         Or would it have?
         “No, Billy. They are here to hear your big speech. I’ve got the microphone right behind my desk. Can you be ready in five minutes?”
         Anyways, it was too late now, and there was nothing that I, or anyone, could do to reverse the day’s grievous beginning.
         “…”
         Or should I say, “end?”
         “Ha ha ha. I’m just teasing you. Enjoy the book, son.”
         My life’s plan of happiness and enjoyment seemed beyond repair.
         “Next!”
         So many questions bludgeoned my already defeated heart.
         “Thanks for coming out to the signing. Good to see you!”
         How could I let this happen?
         “You, too, oh famous author.”
         Why did I choose to blind myself to the signs?
         “Hey, I’m just like anybody else. Hungry for success.”
         What was I to do in order to move on? When would my woes depart?
         “Tsk, tsk. I’d say you’re a glutton for the stuff if you’re still hungry after today.”
         Who or what could I hold onto in the upcoming months, years, and even decades?
         “I suppose someday I will find exactly what I am looking for.”
         She was permanently out of my life, and by her own choice at that.
         "Happy searching, Doc.”
         She had done the unthinkable.
         “You too, good sir.”
         Never before that monumentally miserable day had I pondered on what it would feel like to lose the love of my life to the unspeakable fiend named suicide.
         “Bye, now.”
         And only two weeks before we were to be wed on the beach in San Francisco.
         “Next up!”