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November 18, 2002
I wanted to jump that day, I think, but I was a coward.

I was too afraid of drowning.

I left the bridge no nearer any decisions about life and death than when I had stared longingly into the waters. I was no closer to any perspective on life and strength and grief and weakness than had I stayed sobbing in my room. And the only thing that frightens me more than anything that ran through my head on that bridge was that I was clearly no stronger, no smarter, no better than what I knew myself already to be.