Sabby, my brother wouldn't have blamed me, but that doesn't change the fact that I am at least partially to blame for his death. I don't hide from the truth, or try to disguise the truth. Truth isn't always pretty, it can be downright ugly at times. I am always brutally honest with myself, because no one else will be. Everyone else tells me I'm not to blame, they tell me all the things they think I want to hear, they say all the things that a grieving person would expect from someone else, just for the sake of comfort. For comfort people swallow lies, for comfort they digest cliches, but I decided long ago that I wasn't going to swallow the shallow, artificial, things that people tell others in order to comfort them. What if those things aren't true? In my case they aren't true. I AM partially to blame. Will beating myself up bring my brother back? No. Nothing can bring him back. Dead is dead. Forever. Beating myself up won't serve any useful or practical purpose, either. But nothing can change the fact that I AM to blame, in part, for my brother's death. What my brother would have said doesn't matter, truth is truth. Even if my brother would have denied me any blame in his death, that wouldn't change the facts of the situation surrounding his death. The events leading to his death speak very plainly of my guilt, my share of the blame. It's something I just have to live with, no matter what.