A friend killed herself yesterday.

I cannot understand why a girl I thought so spunky, gutsy and intelligent would do something like this. It's not like we were great friends or anything. We were colleagues six years ago and well, I didn't even like her when we first met. Because she was pretty rude, stuck-up and well, quite un-ignorable. Then I realised she's as prickly as a hedgehog but quick-witted and fun to be around. And she was a darn good journalist. Wrote descriptive, lively pieces that were a treat to read.

Yet, I never really knew her. Because never in my wildest dreams did I imagine she would kill herself.

So how much do we know of another person? Or even someone we love? I used to occasionally read this vital young woman's updates on FaceBook and smile. That's it. Now she is no more.

I wish I had taken the trouble to keep in touch.

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