First off, I'm on mobile so formatting may be terrible, I apologize for that. I'm 21, and have been diagnosed for around 3 years now. I've been lurking here for a very long time but never had the heart to post anything. But I like if I talk with anyone else about my thoughts in detail they may react in a way that I'm not prepared for. This may be long, so feel free to read or not, although it would mean a lot if someone did. Anyway, I'll start now. 

My best friend, who committed suicide last Tuesday had been in my life since I was 11. He doesn't have he same diagnosis, but we've both shared our ups and downs together our entire lives. We were closer than anyone else I know in my life. He stopped me from offing myself years ago when I was extremely low. He became the person I based my entire personality around. He was like a personal litmus test for my emotions, and we kept each other mentally in check throughout our lives. 

I followed him everywhere. I dropped out of college when I went through my past suicidal faze, and when I decided to go back to school I followed him to the school that he showed interest in. I stayed closer to home because we needed each other. We depended on each other for multiple things. But now it's gone. 

He left a letter for me, one of several that he left for others as well, and in it he apologizes for lying to me. He had been in an extremely rough personal spot, and a week before he died we went somewhere and talked about our past. I told him it was the last step in my personal recovery process. I asked him if he was thinking of suicide or harming himself. He said no, and that he could never hurt me in that way. We both agreed that we had made a lot of progress over the years, and how excited we were for the future. He lied to me. And I believed him. I saw him the Monday before he took his own life, and I left for lunch. That was the last time I saw him. I shouldn't have left that day. I left my best friend. I didn't see his signs. And he felt like he needed to lie to me. He deserved a better friend. A better friend would have seen how deep he had fallen, and I left him there. I could have saved him, but I didn't see it. I'm empty now. 

My life began when we met each other. All of my memories involve him, and without him, I have none. I'm not a person without him. Life is completely empty now and there's nothing I can do about it.

Lately I've started a journal of my own, similar to his. I'm not sure what I'll be doing at the end of it. If I should share his fate or not. By the end of my summer I should be at the end of my journal, and I suppose I will have decided by then. I don't know what I'm looking for with this post, but I want someone to know my mindset that won't judge me. In his letter to me, he told me to not follow him, and that I should be what I want to be. But that is its own paradox. I followed him everywhere in life. I am nothing without him. And I don't know what to do now. If you read everything, all I can say is thank you. I apologize again for the length. 