Better to drown herself.

I'm not so sure that my friend Julie is in love. With husband Rick. With her so-called friends. With herself. With nature. With life. With anything. Because she seems bent on committing suicide.  In a slow and methodical way. Yes, indeed, that's sad. Doesn't matter how much anyone tries to intervene. She's decided to become morose. And out of love. With life. Wasn't always that way. Julie used to be in love. And vibrant. Occasionally, she pretends. That she's going to get well again. And fall back in love. With something. With someone. But it's all pretend. Julie prefers a life of sorrow. She'd rather forget. That she's alive. Better to drown herself, I guess. In her favorite beverage. --Jim Broede