“We’re young and alive, so let’s commit some crimes!” - First Date by Ninja Sex Party
One night in January, you sent a wall of text to my phone asking me to go out with you on Friday evening for a hike at Allardale park.
You ended your novel with “and bring wine... ;)”
For some reason this sounded like more than just a hike, but we badly wanted to see each other, so against my better judgment, I relented.
I picked up a bottle for us from the store on the way home from a doctors appointment, tossed it into the trunk for Friday, and got thermoses to hide our illegal delicious activities.
Then Friday came around and I received a text from you saying that we had to postpone. You said that you were experiencing such a positive high, and that you were with your dad, and that it was great.
That was actually great news. You absolutely love your dad, and when I met him for the first time, I could sense how much he loved his beautiful daughter. It radiated off of him, and it was wonderful.
You moved our date to Saturday.
I woke up to your text that morning with news that you had to cancel again, that you fell into a massive low, and simply couldn’t bring yourself to go out.
I suffer from chronic depression, and completely understood what you were going through.
“Please don’t hate me.”
“How could I ever hate you?”
You moved it again, and you cancelled again.
“Please don’t hate me.”
“How could I ever hate you?”
Moved, canceled, repeat.
Don’t hate me.
I don’t.
You were so afraid that you were going to lose me, that I was suddenly going to up and leave.
I reassured you that you were never going to lose me, that I would always care.
“I’ll always be here for you.”
“Thank you so much...”
You had been suffering from episodes of mania, and they were increasing in occurrence as time went on.
During our time together, you would reveal that your friends would always say one of the most counterproductive things that you could ever say to a person suffering from depression: “what do you have to be depressed over?”
During our time together, you would reveal that your parents thought you were faking it.
During our time together, I would find out how badly your mental health had been neglected by the people who should have been concerned about their daughter.
During our time together, I would find out just how broken you were, and how much of a struggle it was to get through the day.
Later on, I would realize that you had been exhibiting major signs of bipolar disorder, and possibly borderline personality disorder. The episodes of mania, the rapid talking, the massive highs followed by massive lows. Add all of that on top of high anxiety and chronic depression.
You were being crushed from the inside out, and no one noticed.
I would find out from an ex friend of yours that this had been your life, and that all of the people who were supposed to care, from your parents to your friends, failed to even be there.
The wine we were to share together on an evening walk through nature would never be touched, but that didn’t matter.
You mattered.
You were hurting.
You were damaged.
You were broken.
You were sad.
You wanted to be happy.
But in the end...
...after our sun had set behind our horizon...
...nothing...
...nothing would matter.
- Jaclyn