It all started when I was just a teenager. That’s when I met him, the guy that would change my life forever. Of course, he didn’t know that, and nor did I at the time. He walked into 2nd period English class, an angel, and the moment my eyes met his my heart skipped a beat, I forgot how to breathe, my palms became sweaty and I immediately thought of ways that I could introduce myself. See, he was the new kid in school, so introducing myself actually became quite easy. I was more outspoken back then. From that moment on, I made it my mission to talk to him every school day. I didn’t realize it then, but I was actually doing him a favor too.
He was most popular with the girls, with his tall skinny build, dark hair and piecing eyes and a smile that could make you weak in the knees. His laugh, infectious. He voice, smooth and comforting. He always seemed so happy too, I mean for the most part. However, it was on his first dark day that I had ever seen him have was when I had noticed it. He wasn’t as happy as his facade had led us all to believe. He was hiding darkness inside, fighting darkness everyday, all of us unaware. After that day, I had made it my mission to make him smile everyday, even if it was only a little one.
Days, weeks, months went by and I got the chance to know him better. The more I got to know, the more time I wanted to spend with him as well. He saw such great joys in such small things, I loved that. He taught me to be more open minded than I already was. Not to judge so quickly. He even became more open in our Senior english class, about what kind of demons he fought everyday and how so many people take so many things for granted, like happiness. Things that might not come so easy to others. I should have seen it then, I should have been more observant. Here it is, just past the thirteen year mark and I still have a tendency to blame myself.
The reality of it is, his demons got to be too much to handle. The darkness ultimately won. Weather we choose to see it or not, there are rarely happy endings. There is more bad in the world now, then there is good. And sometimes there just is. No bad. No good. Just life.
One of my dearest friends, lover, fellow student, teacher, giver, and gentle human being took his own life, before his high school senior year even ended. Some might say that it was his life to take, others might say that it was selfish of him, some may even try to say that it was his time. Whatever it was, or even is, now that people will say or think; I can guarantee one thing, everyone will try to make since of it… when the truth is, it doesn’t make since. And I don’t think that it ever will. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ten years from now. Not even in one hundred life times.
No one single person is ever going to know what another is truly thinking or feeling… because we are not them. That does not mean that it is up to us to judge other people, or shame them, or talk down about or to them, or to behave negatively in any way.
I never saw death with the same eyes after that. Yes, I had lost people and loved ones in my life, but never like that. I also took great comfort in thinking that he is not suffering anymore. And it even slowed my own thoughts of suicide down, by a lot, for a bit. Those who don’t suffer from it don’t know, they can’t see how anyone would feel such a way.
My pain and journey down the road of suffering didn’t end there. A few years later in my early twenties after some time had past for the damage to heal enough to not sting as much anymore, I happened about another guy who stole my heart away. He too was strong, handsome, happy, a good friend, and suffering. I hadn’t known at all, in the previous months, nearly a year or maybe a little less, until something very stupid and trivial had happened that ended up with him being put on house arrest and me practically living with him the last three weeks of his life. In that three weeks I had watched a beautiful, breathtaking, rare bird have his wings clipped and shoved into a cage. To this day, I believe it was his breaking point.
He was the type that did it all. Climbed mount everest, hiked the hills, mountain biked, swim in the ocean, surfed, played in the duns, camped out on the lake, ate rare foods, ect. You name it, he did it. He was always so energetic too. Seemed so happy. That first week he told me of his adventures, he dislikes (which weren’t many), his likes, why he decided not to have kids, how his life was as a boy and admitted to me of his suffering. His war that he had been fighting for years. I had seen the pill bottles in the bathroom cupboard, but never thought to look at them or ask him about it, it wasn’t my business. It wasn’t until he came clean about his depression that it had all clicked, He too, was a fellow fighter. And from that moment on, I did everything in my power to make him smile at least once a day. Again, I say to myself, “How could I have not seen it coming?”
Part of me wonders if maybe I did see it and I just thought he had it more under control, part of me wonders if I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. I might always be pondering these things, about both of them.
The second week went really well, we hung out a lot, had home made meals, watched movies, shared secrets, told stories. It seemed like he was really going to make it through. The third week, not so much. He ended up attempting to take his life, one night when I didn’t stay over. Called me for help, I helped him and the next day he made a call to his doctor. I was under the impression that he had it handled. He had things sorted out, meds adjusted and we were moving on, bruised, but not broken.
One evening I had made it to his place later than I normally would have. I tried calling and I wondered when he didn’t answer, but gave him the benefit of the doubt. Still, I didn’t like that he was home alone, so often, in the state that he was in. So I had made it over there quickly, only to find that it wasn’t soon enough. I had spent hours, days, weeks, even years wondering if he had intended to be saved and that I just didn't make it in time, but then I am reminded of one of our last conversations where he had told me that if he were to attempt it again he was to succeed. I had of course let him know of my extreme disagreement with his ideas. To which he did his best at easing. He had also confessed everything to me in that conversation, I see now, that it was so someone would live on knowing his life story.
Yes, I found his body, lifeless and not at all like you read about or see in movies. Yes, it still troubles me to this day. Yes, he was a very good person. Yes, it had changed my life, in both bad and good ways. No, he did not deserve to feel the way that he felt. But for him, he had decided that his life was over, that it was his to take and who are we to say otherwise? But people do, and they will always debate others and their lives.
There has been an increasing amount of suicides in the last few years along with an increasing amount of negativity and meanness. I can’t help but wonder if the two go hand in hand? It is the easier thing to do, to take our sadness, hatred, and evil out on others… this I sadly know. But I also know the effect that it can cause and has on others. There is no glory in being the bully, being the mean one. There is nothing to gain in negativity, but more negativity. And I am not sitting on some pedestal looking down on everyone saying this, I too have to remember it from time to time. I too, can be mean and hateful. I try not to be, I don’t like that side of me, I don’t wish to be that way at all and am appalled when it does happen.
In a world were nearly everyone responds poorly, it’s easier than one may think to loose yourself and become just as ugly. But we have to remember that it’s not going to solve anything, it’s only going to cause more grief, sadness, hurt. Which then leads to bitterness, anger and resentment. Become more aware of the people around you. Think before acting or speaking. So often, so many hurtful things get said or are done in the heat of the moment. Take time to breathe and remember that the other person hurts too. And they may be fighting a battle that you are completely unaware of.
It is never really one persons fault when someone takes their own life. However, if we were to all be more careful, kind, generous, open minded, soft spoken, warm hearted, understanding, and compassionate, it might never even have to happen in the first place.
Everyone is fighting their own battle in some way or another. Just because you cannot see it, does not mean that it is not there. As I have learned, a face is most often a person’s facade. It’s their eyes that tell their true story. Their souls that are the ones suffering and fighting to stay strong. Try to see a person’s soul. Love, don’t hate. Always try to love. Tomorrow is never promised to any of us. So start handing out encouragement, not hopelessness. Do your very best to love.
