For ten years, I’ve had the privilege of knowing a man who I considered to be at least as smart as Stephen Hawking.
For ten years, I had the even greater privilege of calling this man a friend. He stood by me when only few others would, and we kept being in contact when no one else would.
We could talk for hours on the phone, discussing various manufacturing techniques and materials. He was the only man – no, person! – in the world who I never had to explain something twice to; he initially understood what I was talking about, no matter the subject.
I loved this man dearly, with all that’s left of my heart; he – and just he! – made me believe again that the male part of the human species could be a good part.
He also was the only man during the last one and a half decades who asked me if I would marry him; and even if it was asked in jest, it still got to me. Also, when I talked about building the impossible, he said, “if someone can do it, it’s you”. He believed in me.
With the deepest sadness I ever felt I received the news that this man had not just contemplated and planned to, but actually end his life on this planet in August; for no apparent reason and without anyone – myself included – noticing that he had plans to do so.
My heart weeps at the loss of this man; but no crying, kicking, screaming or whatever I can possibly do will bring him back; and all that’s left is a huge questionmark as for why he did it.
Goodbye, Martin, I will never forget you; and it will take a whole while longer until I stop crying when being reminded of you by little things.