The Letter

(CW: Death)

You,

I stand here amongst the crowd, crumpled in the cold, wooden seat, trying not to cry, not to laugh, not to look like a complete idiot. Trying not the tear the paper apart, not to burn your casket, not to push everyone in sight. Trying not to go crazy but you’d love it. You always did. We were crazy like that. I could have called, I could have said something, anything. I should have been there. I should have never left your side. I should have… I would have run to you – saved you. Or at least tried. I did. I did with all my heart. I should have done more. You deserved it. But it’s pointless. Where would my anger lead me? Would it bring you back? Would it make me feel less guilty, less hurt, less sad? Would it make you stand and smile? Would it make you warm? I’m sorry. I’m sorry I don’t have words to say. No. I’m sorry I have too much to say.

I asked you to tell me what’s wrong. I ask you a million times. I know, “I’m okay.” means so much more than that. I was here. I’m still here. I… It’s much too late for regrets now. Far too late for goodbyes. You’ve never been this close to me and felt so far. I can’t even look at you. I can’t… I can’t move. It hasn’t sunk in just yet. Not completely. And I know, no matter how many buckets of tears I’ve yet to cry, they wouldn’t be able to fill your veins with blood, your lungs with air, your eyes with soul. Maybe, maybe I just wasn’t the one you wanted to save you. Maybe I wasn’t enough. Maybe. Maybe… LIFE SUCKS. But that’s how things go, isn’t it? We live, we fight, we fall, we stand. Live or Die. It’s always one or the other, isn’t it? Always now or never, here or there… always an end…

You know what? I’m sorry life was hell to you. We all had it. Maybe a bit too differently. I know it’s not my fault but no one’s going to apologize for it either so I will anyway. I’m sorry people left you before. I’m sorry you felt taken for granted at one point. I’m sorry life was unfair. I’m sorry that life just really sucks. It still does. I’m sorry that no one tried hard enough - especially the one’s you felt you deserved. I’m sorry… I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t know when to call. I’m sorry that my words came out too late. I’m sorry that there’s nothing I can do to bring you back. I’m sorry that you’re gone. I’m sorry we won’t get another chance on anything. I’m sorry I can’t make you hear how wonderful you are. I’m sorry I can’t see you lighten at my smile. I’m sorry I can’t hug you and give you comfort and love and…

What good would it bring to say – I wish you were here. But I do I wish you were here to give me a hug. I wish you were here to say, “April Fools!” Even though it’s the middle of January and it’s a terrible, terrible joke. I wish you were here to stay beside me as I relish in the fact that you breathe. I wish you were here to try. YOU SHOULD’VE FUCKING TRIED. GODDAMMIT. I asked myself not to be angry. I asked myself not to be sad. I asked myself not to feel guilty but I do. I fucking do and it fucking hurts. I’m trying. So. Hard. To understand. And maybe I never will. We’ve always had a choice, you know.

And maybe, this was a choice you had to make. Maybe, I didn’t know how you felt. Maybe, I never will. Maybe, it is better this way. Maybe, now, you’re free.

So wherever you are. I wish you well. And that I’ll always love you.

Me.

Note:
This is my response to my friend's semi-fictional suicide letter. She didn't kill herself, which I am grateful for to this day. Please know that if you ever need someone, I'm here to talk. Mental Health issues are real, important and a very urgent matter. Always tell the people you love that you love them. x

(Photo credits to @MinAn https://www.pexels.com/u/minan1398/)