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1: Standing on the bridge

I don't remember how I got here. The only thing I know for sure is that it feels right. Staring down at the water with no one around me. Even though it's so high from up here, I don't feel scared. I don't remember ever doing anything reckless in my life. Perhaps this is not reckless otherwise, it won't feel right. Wouldn't it?

I really can't escape the sharp pain in my chest. My heart. Oh, my heart.

I never understood how organs could be so linked to emotions. Like why am I standing here with a stabbing pain in my heart but not stomachache from the height of this bridge? Is my heart really that broken that I do not feel fear anymore? I still blame the medicine for not helping me. I blame the therapy, too.

Although I should not be throwing blame now, it's all meant to be. I guess. Even though it was never what I wanted, this is what I want now. I feel like everything is now settled, and this should be done sooner than later.

I feel like I haven't had a purpose for a very long while. For years I was taking responsibilities that weren't mine to take. I took care of everyone around me, even my family. Funny because it didn't even matter to most of them.

I stopped talking to all of my second relatives. All my aunts and uncles. Not a single person knows where I am in life now. They don't even know half of what I went through.

Nor does my childhood best friend. We went to the same school and college together, but she cut ties once she found her people.

Which I don't mind, by the way. This is part of life, or so I have been told. But it always felt like I was the person waiting for the other one to take a move. I was always the one trying to make amends or reconnect.

I was always the one making an effort. I don't want to play the victim role because there isn't one. I just wished I had a better upbringing that could have maybe led to me not being here today.

I look down again. It's far enough, I think. I don't want this to fail; I don't want to go through this twice.

Because she might know.

I wonder what is going to happen next. I was never a curious person, though.

Now, that's a lie. I taught myself not to be curious. I hated how people would just taunt you to give you the information you want (but do not need) to know. So now I have become a very non-curious person. Minding my own business.

But this is different. I wonder what happens next. If anything, honestly. I suppose it could just be darkness. Or it could be the life I know for a fact I deserve. I am not competing with God here; I just have always had this feeling that everyone should have that one constant lovely thing to keep them going. Otherwise, how would they?

And I know this is where faith and belief get mentioned, but I lost those the day I lost you.

I would really hate to end up in a loop and just find myself crying and coming out of my mom's womb. Because the only thing I'm scared of is having to go through losing my friend again.

I also don't want to respawn in a new life without you. I know I wouldn't know we met, but I feel like I'll always have this missing puzzle piece in my heart that only you could complete. Or, at the very least, I wouldn't want a life without my friend next to me.

I think I remember now. I remember when the crying stopped, but nothing felt better. I cried for days and days, nonstop. I swear, the second I opened my eyes in the morning, I would start tearing up. I even started wearing sunglasses at home to avoid the light.

And people's attention to my very exhausted eyes.

Time did not heal me. Neither did support. See, I did not get any support since I had no one to fully rely on. My "friends" are busy with life. Drugs, marriage, responsibilities, you name it. And I sure can't support my own self. I was so busy supporting everyone around me that I forgot myself. Perhaps I never learned how to support myself emotionally, too.

You see, I don't even like myself. I barely even know me. I would look in the mirror and wouldn't recognize the person staring back at me.

That's why I have no mirrors at my house.

But you, you were my support system. You always found time for me through everything.

I'm sorry if that was such a big of a burden; I'm sorry if I was too much. You were just the only one that truly loved me. And you could never support a person without loving them unconditionally.

You say you know nothing about love and unconditional love. But you have been doing it for so long with me without noticing. We grew together. We saw past our flaws. We fought but still managed to say good morning the next day.

We were there for each other for the little things before the big ones. Hell, you were there for me without you even knowing you were.

I'd go through hell with life, and just seeing you and spending quality time with you at the end of each day was far more than enough. I didn't need anything more from you.

And for that, I deeply thank you. With all of my broken heart.

I can't lie, this does feel a little bit selfish. And I honestly like it. I don't remember the last time I actually did something purely for myself. A pathological people's pleaser, like Taylor Swift once said.

Always trying to be the golden child, student, employee. And what did I get? Outings, trips, and parties I was never invited to. Everyone even forgot my birthday. It would just be a lonely, sad day that acts like a reminder that I was never worthy of love.

But again, you loved me. And I can't express this enough. You expected nothing in return. In fact, most of the time, all you got in return was me. With all my mental issues and attitude problems, you accepted me.

All the people I tried impressing and tip-toed around did not even try to attempt to get to know me and, maybe, eventually, love me. This is funny because I thought I was trying to impress you at some point, but you always got the raw version of me. And you had no problems with it. Actually, you did have problems with it. And yet, loved me so deeply through everything. See? Unconditional.

For the longest time, I thought this "self" was hideous and unbearable. Because I don't even love or get myself, I always thought that I was the issue here, the common denominator. And you proved me wrong.

And yet, here we are. Apart. Proving or disproving my theory does not matter anymore. Because even if it's not true and I am worthy of love, I don't have it now.

I always tried my best to be there for people. The ones I know and don't know. Trying to prove that I am lovable and that they should love me. In fact, they would miss a lot if they didn't. Have always been their parents' favorite. The person they know their kids will be safe with.

And it never worked. Once anyone close to me would get to see "me" behind closed doors, they would run for it. I'm not even exaggerating.

I would literally get ghosted by my own "best friend." I would get "you deserve better" texts from friends. I would even get dumped as a friend because they are now in a much better friendship.

Maybe this authentic self was hurtful, and I didn't see it. Maybe I truly am a bad person. But this is subjective, I think. Maybe I saw it, and no one believed it when I said I was a bad person.

Maybe this is me being delusional. Maybe I truly am the problem. But I swear I never wanted to be. I would wake up every day trying my best to be there for everyone. Trying to be the person they'd expect. Until I would just "get comfortable," and the storm would hit.

I really thought this was the "light at the end of the tunnel," this friendship of ours. It felt like a reward for all the effort put out there into the universe. But I was a fool to think so. It always felt too good to be true. Till the very last second, I still couldn't comprehend how much you loved me.

What hurts even more is that you did this out of love, too. And I don't think I'll ever understand it to process the whole situation. I really wish you were a bad friend to me. I really wish this was easier.

I really wish I was correct to think this was the friendship of a lifetime.

I don't know whether it's a good idea for you to know all that. I don't think it's fair for me to even decide. It's like, I want you to know how much love you were able to give, but not know how much it hurt when it was taken away.

So let God bear witness that we were too good to hurt, betray, or disappoint. But we got nothing... and everything got us.