Frank is more than a metaphore

I'm a bartender, yes that means i sell the devils water in large quantities to anyone and everyone within reach of my bar. Its a job, not the most moral or healthy job, but a job it is none the less. However being a bartender never really gets in the way of my hefty moral code (you can take that any way you like). Naturally this job comes with a few pitfalls, long nights, rude people, and the occasional sob story from half drunk people who have the mistaken impression that i care more about them than I do their tips. Don't get me wrong I have a good amount of regulars who i care a lot about and not just because they pay my rent. There are also a good amount of people who come in that I've never seen before, nor will see again. All that included I do in fact love my job and enjoy it almost every day.
One of my regulars, who for now ill just call Frank, came in several times a week. May not seem like a lot to you, but in fact thats more than i see some of closest friends. Frank like most regulars had his favorite spot at the bar, a beer of choice, and standard tip. Unlike most regulars who would stop in grab a beer or two and head out, Frank stayed. It was not uncommon for Frank to be one of the last out of the bar. It was quit obvious that Frank did indeed have some sort of a drinking problem. How far and how problematic his drinking was I don't know. While at my bar though he was well behaved and stayed fairly quite and never really made a scene. Sometimes he would even bring his young daughter in they would sit and enjoy a meal and talk with some of the other regulars. Frank was very happy to have his daughter with him due to the fact that he only got to see her once every two weeks, the rest of the time I believe she spent with her mother. Frank it seemed was going through a rather tough time. A divorce, a pending legal battle of which i still am unclear of the exact nature. There were a few other things going on that wont get mentioned here, because just stating that he had some issues is enough.
A few weeks ago he came in and to my surprise turned down a beer, instead opting for a cranberry juice. Turns out he was not drinking anymore. Slight conflict for myself here, seeing as my job is to serve alcohol. Yet I was happy for the guy. I wanted to see him pull himself out of his mess and to be there for his daughter and to become the great guy I knew he was. I consulted with a close friend of mine who has a much superior sense morality than I. We came to the conclusion that as a bartender I have a unique position in the community and that I could do a lot of good. When I told him I don't know what to do, he looked at me and said, "I think you know what to do". And so for the past few weeks Have been trying to pry information out of Frank, to get him to open up a little, maybe be a shoulder for him to lean on, or just to be someone he can talk to. I was really starting to feel like i could help him...some how.
Well the other night Frank killed himself. Never in my life have i felt so helpless. Haunted by thoughts of things i could have done or said. I should have done something. So often i talk about right and wrong, what's wrong with our government, the decline of America. If people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, well maybe i should just have my hands tied behind my back. Or maybe I should keep my overly opinionated mouth shut.
I may be the first one to climb onto my high horse and start spouting idealists rhetoric, but the truth is I don't know how many people get a chance to prove that they are a good person, let alone a second, or my case to many to count. Every single time, every chance I've had to prove my "goodness" I have failed. Being a good person is not something you can learn to do. God knows I have tried. I have made some awful decisions in my life, and some were bad enough to make me realize that the things i had done were not things a good person would do. Good people are born not made. Frank had some issues, some people thought Frank was a bad man. To me Frank was just a guy, neither good nor bad, just a guy with some issues to work through. After a lot of thought, I have come to decide that I am a lot like Frank, so are you, and so are we all. No one wants to look at it like that but its true. We like to have bad people so that we can have good people. Frank I'm going to miss you and i will always be sorry that i couldn't have done more for you. But I hope that i can take something from this and better myself and others. Franks' struggle to be good mirrors my own, I may never be a "good" person, but that will never stop me from trying. Remembering Frank, means remembering the fall of man, that no one is perfect and that sometimes just trying something may be enough, and that sometimes failure is just another path to success of another kind.