NSPW Day 4. Better late than never.
A letter, to you --
Here’s a dream pulled from the depths of my mind from a few days ago. Even though we barely speak, in my dreams we’re best friends. Freshly lined with tears, may this remind you in some small way of how much you mean to me. Please, stay alive. It’s not just your life you have to lose.
It’s so late now but if you were here you’d say it was still early. The night is young, you’d say, and I’d probably laugh and sing the chorus of that summer song you liked so much, the one you made me listen to a thousand times until I reluctantly agreed that it was a masterfully crafted work of art even though we both knew that I had the better taste when it came to music. Then you’d roll your eyes and say something barely poetic but I’d accept it like a classic Shakespearean sonnet and that would be that.
I know that if you had been there when I started to drift off at this hour, you’d have smiled softly and left a kiss as light as a butterfly’s touch on my forehead before whispering in my ear about a quick trip for coffee. And then off we’d go, hand in hand, because ten minutes together meant the world to a couple of dreamers and the starry sky was too glorious to miss. We’d have walked most of the way in silence, simply content to be present in a world we were determined to change for the better. I would have glanced over at you a few times because I loved how you looked when you were lost in thought, and I knew you were gazing off into a distant paradise, and that was the place I knew someday we’d both run away to and no one could convince us otherwise. That was me and you; two brave souls standing against a troubled world. But it was too early on for me to notice that the world we both loved and hated was starting to make you sick of yourself, and you never said a word.
If you’d been there, I would have smiled at the warmth of the coffee shop and officially welcomed you to Wonderland. Then you’d have teased me about how boring I was to order the same type of coffee every visit, and I would have insisted that I was maybe predictable but never boring. That was how we always did it. At that point, you would have eaten the whipped cream off my drink because you liked chocolate syrup better than I did, and I would have sipped your coffee before you joked about contamination. Then you would have quoted a witty line from one of your favorite movies and I would have commented on how difficult it was to comprehend advanced algebra or any math for that matter and that I much preferred some type of science like physics or chemistry or we could make up our own ideas if you wanted. Because nothing could ever stop us and we both knew that very well which was why the serious moment never surprised us. We were invincible, and we lived because we loved it.
I would have never traded those few moments that could have existed but we never got around to. We would have finished our drinks after finishing our debate over foreign policy and music, but in the end we both won because that was how it always worked. We would have lingered at the coffee shop a little longer, because you would have wanted to read the story I wrote in my worn blue journal, like you did every week. You always liked my writing, always had an insightful word of advice, and always claimed my words inspired you to do something greater, be someone greater. And whenever you said that, the edges of my mouth would turn up in a smile and I would start to believe it again, because you knew that even little things like that meant the world to me and you were the person that could make my day better no matter what battles we had to fight to win. You were my best friend in the whole wide world and I loved you for who I knew you to be, for the person you wanted to be, for the beautiful person that you are.
But we didn’t go to the coffee shop to conquer our fears because you weren’t here. You weren’t here anymore. I’d just gotten home late from work and my phone vibrated in my pocket. One new text message. One new message... and suddenly the room spun inside and around my head and I didn’t feel so strong anymore. You weren’t there to hold me up so I fell to the ground and screamed with all I had left because nothing mattered anymore. You were gone. You were gone, and there was nothing I could do to bring you back. You were dead, by your own hand. They say that there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel but I knew that this was the point where the entrance to my tunnel caved in and I was left trapped forever in the darkness and you weren’t there to help me find my way out. I wish I could remember what the last words I said to you were; I hope they were something important. And I wish they’d been enough to save you. That’s something I’ll forever regret.
The question I keep asking myself is if you had me from the first hello, was I not enough to keep you alive? I loved you and I still do and I guess I don’t know why all the memories and the moments seemed to mean nothing to you. I keep wondering if it was something I said or did that made you want to end it; or maybe it was something that I didn’t say, something I didn’t do that would have made you stay if I had. I wish I could have understood what battle you were so determined to fight on your own that you had never even told me about. I wish I knew why even though I already know. I know about all the pain you felt. I know about the overwhelming feelings that turned your world upside down and you weren’t sure if it would ever be right again. I know about the scars, about the self-hate and the persistent desire to die. I know about all that and I know that all that had built up inside of you but I thought that we were stronger than all of it. I thought you and I, together, could fight off the monsters stuck in both of our heads because you said you’d always be here but now I’m left alone to decide whether to keep going or to surrender to those demons.
I want to scream but I don’t know if I’ll be heard because you were the only one who ever listened. I’m drowning in my tears, sinking in my sorrow, wondering if I should push on until tomorrow. I know that there’s still hope. But I wish you had seen it and I wish I could have loved you enough to help you believe it, to realize that love is what makes life worth living. You were beautiful to me. You were so lovely, so strong. But I guess I was wrong about you.
You have no idea, how your very existence impacts my life. Please, remember that I love you. Remember, and stay alive.
Sincerely,
--
Scribbles
P.S. You may say my mind is a dark place to dream about suicide. But I say that dreams come from our hearts, and my heart is filled with a desire to love until it hurts. To love until my whole heart bursts, and maybe it will be enough to cause someone to choose life instead of death.
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