[He shakes his head, smiling--beaming, almost--as if just the thought exhilarates him.]

I killed myself back home, trying to get to a river. I thought I'd be mortally wounded by the time I reached the water, and the rapids downstream would take care of the rest.

Now that I'm here I realize I would have loved to feel the rapids without a bullet in my back.

[And that, of course, is what this feels like: a resolution the mistake, finally having a glimpse of something he's mourned his whole short life.]