Sarah Barnard

Today I saw a soldier cry.

He was marching, with his regiment, eyes front and proud, with tears rolling down his face. Read More…

I don’t often post personal stuff in here but this has been running round in my head for a while.

A few years ago, around the time I was writing the first Portal series book, I was a frequent visitor on a number of internet chat sites. There were a few of us who were there most days. We were from all over the world, so most of us have never met in person. But that doesn’t make the feeling of belonging any less. Many of us were having a tough time in our lives and we were there for each other at stupid o’clock. When one of us needed to talk there was invariably someone online who would listen.

Over time we drifted away from the chat boards, went our separate ways and some of the boards closed down, some became internet troll homes, and some just became so quiet that we stopped popping in to them. A small handful of those people, I have stayed in touch with via facebook, email and other avenues. Some, I feel have become proper friends, even if we’ve never met face to face.

Recently I got a fit of, “Whatever happened to…” and I went in search of some of those friends. One I found who hadn’t moved on, was still the same person wandering about cyberspace looking for someone to lean on. One I found happy and content, having fought her demons and won.

But there was one I couldn’t find and that sharp edge of concern was there. I looked harder, I sought out mutual friends and old haunts, and there was no sign.

Eventually I found someone who’d found some evidence that she’d committed suicide about a year after the group we’d been part of drifted apart.

Maybe we should have stayed in touch, maybe she wouldn’t have done that if we, as a group, hadn’t drifted apart. Maybe there’s something we could have said, could have done.

Maybe not. We’ll never know.

I hope you found some peace, my friend, I hope you got the reunion you hoped for.