My little brother, Jacob Rogers, was gay. That did not bother my family nor myself. It was always known and excepted since he was little. But we grew up in a small country town and he was picked on for years over this. We were a grade apart so I never heard or noticed these things taking place. He always shook off the jokes and never told me nor the rest of my family about this. Well I graduated high school in May of 2011 and moved in with some friends. When I moved out in May, I did not contact my family but about once a week. Well on December 7th I get a call saying my Brother Jacob is dead. That he shot and killed himself. My heart sank to my a**. It was the first time my entire body felt tingly because of emotion. Not a single day goes by that I don’t think about that day and the weeks following. Six years later nothing has changed. I can still hear his voice saying my name and I can still remember specific conversations. I do not remember the last time I spoke to him let alone our last words together. The last I remember of my little brother was seeing him walk out of a Walmart with a group of friends, I did not approach him nor did he even see me. I did not want to come up and speak to him with his friends around – I wanted to give him his friend time. Not a single day goes by that I don’t regret not running across the parking lot and talking to him. What I wouldn’t give for just a phone call now. F***.