Today was a day I truly fucking hated.
March 20th to be exact, 2006. That is a day I fucking hate. And I will probably go on hating this day, hating the Friday before the 20th. Hating spring break and letting my hatred take over me for these few days. Simply because it was one of the most tragic fucking days of my life.
I lost a friend that day. Someone I had wanted to rekindle a friendship with and someone I loved, though I will grudgingly admit it. Simply because the kid was my first boyfriend in 7th grade and my first kiss. Its been three years since he shot himself. And to this day the very thought of it brings me to tears, but not to the point I am sobbing like it used to do. I mentioned this to people, and I assume they don't understand the situation that really bothers me. They tell me its been three years, get over it, deal with it stop talking about it. And I get mad. And there are some days I just want to let it go, some days I just want it to fade from my mind and let that pain go. And then there's the fear that everyone will forget him, and there will be no one to remember the good things. That is why I sometimes do not want to forget. And maybe no one will sit down and listen to my story about the two days before his suicide, they don't want to understand, people just dont care. And personally thats probably why people dont get the help they really need. I'm a big advocate against suicide, because like a lot people they have been at that point. And when no one takes you seriously, how the hell are you going to get help? Your peers wont listen and shrug it off as just a funk. And you wind up being the kid that everyone thought was OK. And WHY DID THEY DO IT.
I beat myself down many times wondering why I didnt open my mouth to James when I saw him for the last time. There was so much I wanted to tell him, but my stupid ass could only say Hi. And I knew there was something wrong, and people say that is just me looking back now, but no I knew. And a year later, almost a year later, before my birthday my ex attempts suicide and I save him. And from then on? I wondered why the fuck could I step up to someone I came to detest and save their life but I couldnt find the balls to tell James all the things I had wanted to say, and that drove the pain farther into me. And I began to question that, did I think that by saving my ex I would make up for the things I didnt say to James? I dont know, but it fucked me up more. I have let this hurt me for three years, and I know there will never ever be a chance for me to say what I need to say, and that I need to move on. You cant help those who dont want to be helped. But I feel that I reserve the right to cry on this day if I see fit, to mourn the loss of a great guy, and do what the fuck I want without anyone telling me to deal with it.
Here's a picture of him for good times laughing.
Thats my Blog.
March 20th to be exact, 2006. That is a day I fucking hate. And I will probably go on hating this day, hating the Friday before the 20th. Hating spring break and letting my hatred take over me for these few days. Simply because it was one of the most tragic fucking days of my life.
I lost a friend that day. Someone I had wanted to rekindle a friendship with and someone I loved, though I will grudgingly admit it. Simply because the kid was my first boyfriend in 7th grade and my first kiss. Its been three years since he shot himself. And to this day the very thought of it brings me to tears, but not to the point I am sobbing like it used to do. I mentioned this to people, and I assume they don't understand the situation that really bothers me. They tell me its been three years, get over it, deal with it stop talking about it. And I get mad. And there are some days I just want to let it go, some days I just want it to fade from my mind and let that pain go. And then there's the fear that everyone will forget him, and there will be no one to remember the good things. That is why I sometimes do not want to forget. And maybe no one will sit down and listen to my story about the two days before his suicide, they don't want to understand, people just dont care. And personally thats probably why people dont get the help they really need. I'm a big advocate against suicide, because like a lot people they have been at that point. And when no one takes you seriously, how the hell are you going to get help? Your peers wont listen and shrug it off as just a funk. And you wind up being the kid that everyone thought was OK. And WHY DID THEY DO IT.
I beat myself down many times wondering why I didnt open my mouth to James when I saw him for the last time. There was so much I wanted to tell him, but my stupid ass could only say Hi. And I knew there was something wrong, and people say that is just me looking back now, but no I knew. And a year later, almost a year later, before my birthday my ex attempts suicide and I save him. And from then on? I wondered why the fuck could I step up to someone I came to detest and save their life but I couldnt find the balls to tell James all the things I had wanted to say, and that drove the pain farther into me. And I began to question that, did I think that by saving my ex I would make up for the things I didnt say to James? I dont know, but it fucked me up more. I have let this hurt me for three years, and I know there will never ever be a chance for me to say what I need to say, and that I need to move on. You cant help those who dont want to be helped. But I feel that I reserve the right to cry on this day if I see fit, to mourn the loss of a great guy, and do what the fuck I want without anyone telling me to deal with it.
Here's a picture of him for good times laughing.
Thats my Blog.
That is a very sad story, I'm very very sorry for the loss of your friend.
I used to be married to a mortician, and he would tell me that everyone grieves in their own way... and people shouldn't be pressured to heal from a loss too soon.
I lost my brother almost six years ago now - and though it wasn't suicide, I still think there could have been more I could have done to save him.