Luke Loranger |
The day after I heard I compulsively googled symptoms of depression. There had to be something I missed, some key sign that would explain the tragic event. The reality, however, was that Ian Andres never showed the majority of these symptoms.
One of the hardest parts of Ian’s passing is the realization that I cannot attribute his death to a specific reason or mental illness. There will never be an answer to the question “why.” Ian was truly a remarkable person.
Easily my fondest memory of Ian occurred on a normal Tuesday night in the beginning of July. Ian lived two doors from me, so like most nights, I was at his house. On this particular night we watched three quarters of a movie before Ian realized it was past 11 and he needed to get up for work at six the next day. I told him it was no problem if he went to bed, and he grabbed his laptop and started quietly walking down the stairs. Twenty minutes later, however, I heard Ian rushing up the stairs, laptop in hand. He boldly proclaimed to me, “We are finishing this movie!” Ian was easily one of the most driven people I have ever met.
If Ian set his mind to something it would be done. Nobody had a cleaner room than Ian. Nobody had a better shoe collection than Ian. Ian noticed the details of life. He would ask me about work, about specific details others would gloss over. He was a great listener, someone who would hear your story until the end, often in silent approval.
It comes in waves. I find myself sitting on the porch of his house late at night, talking and laughing. Suddenly it's late July and Ian is standing in front of me as the sun beats down on his tanktop. I wish Ian knew it was OK to talk about what he was going through.
I wish he would have opened up to me or someone else, instead of keeping his emotions bottled up.I don’t know what drove Ian to commit suicide. However, I do know there are outlets for support at UP. Telling someone, be it a counselor or friend is the first crucial step towards seeking help.
I miss Ian.
I miss the person who was always willing to go on a midnight slushie run.
I miss my friend.
Luke Loranger is a reporter for the Beacon. He can be reached at loranger18@up.edu or @loranger18.
