Heathens-Joshler

10

 [Trigger Warning: Suicide mention, death mention, blood mention]

"No! No, you're lying!" Screams a voice. I can't see, but I can hear.

I guess death shoved me away. I guess our embrace only lasted a second or two.

It sounds romantic, because I don't want to make it sound gory and vile and bitter. I can't think about it that way. But that's what it was. It wasn't romantic at all. It was blood and shaky breathing and regretting it once it was too late. It was the scent of blood filling my senses, and the sheet that I'd pulled off the bed and onto the floor tangling around my legs, and then the acrid scent of vomit after I threw up a few times. It wasn't beautiful. It wasn't fucking poetic. I write songs in which I speak of death so poetically, but that's not at all what it was like. I guess it's just easier to think of it that way.

Because I don't want to think about how terrible it was. So I'll call it an embrace, inside my head, if that gets me through. But just know that there's nothing beautiful about it. It was vile and tragic and disgusting. It was despair and helplessness and my mouth tasting the way the air around me smelled, like stomach acid and blood. It was the intense physical and emotional pain, caught between wishing it would be over, wishing I would die and it would be finished, and wishing that I could survive, because I was filled with regret at what I had done. It was one of the ugliest things I'd ever known.

"I assure you, I am not lying." Another voice says.

I'm in bed, machines beeping all around me. I feel needles in my arm, probably an IV and a feeding tube.

I am alive.

I tried to kill myself, but I am still alive. And now I can't decide if God is real or not. It doesn't make sense anymore. Nothing does.

"I have to see him! Please, let me see him! He'll tell me the truth! He'll tell me that you're lying!" It's Josh's voice. The same beautiful voice, but broken. Like he's broken. "Please be lying." He sobs, and I hear moans and quiet wails of despair.

"Mr. Dun, please quiet down."

"Please let me see him." His voice is a broken whisper.

I hear footsteps, and then someone pulling a chair up to be by my bed. The same someone sits down, and I feel a hand in mine.

"Hey, Ty." He says. "It's Josh. I-I don't know how aware you are right now, but I still want to talk to you, even if you can't hear me." His voice is raw from crying. "Um, I read your note. Most of it was for me, so they let me read it." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "I came to see you, and I was stopped and told that I couldn't. I asked why not, figuring there was a breach in protocol or something. And then they told me that you had attempted suicide." He chokes up and brings my hand to his lips, brushing his lips over my knuckles and then holding my hand to his cheek like it's a teddy bear, comforting him. "They told me that they had found you on the floor. Your nurse, Rhonda, had had this sense that something was wrong, and she came to check on you an extra time, just to make sure. She found you on the floor." He chokes up again, and sobs, still holding my hand to his face. "They didn't know if they could save you or not. You were almost dead. But they managed to save you, thank fucking God."

He's crying again, harder than I've ever seen, or heard, anyone cry before. His hands are shaking; I can feel them against my own.

"I'm so sorry, Tyler." He sobs. "I'm sorry I couldn't prevent this. I'm so sorry. But you have to know that I need you. I never wanted to need you, and I never thought I would, but as soon as I knew you, I knew that my life would never be the same. It would be better. I need you so much." He sobs between sentences, sometimes even between words. "You're the light of my life, Tyler. You're my favourite person. You make me happy. Sure, I hate to see you sad, but I'd rather see you sad than not see you at all, and you have to know that." He pauses, swallowing hard. "You said in your note that I'd be better off without you, but you have to know that that's not true. It couldn't be further from the truth. I'm so much worse off. They told me, and I felt like I was dying too, like everything had changed, like I wanted to go and meet you at death's door. I've known you for eight months, and you've made it the best eight months of my life. I just want to make you as happy as you make me. I know that I can't make all the pain go away, but I'll still try to do the best I can. Because you're the most beautiful, wonderful human being I have ever met. And you deserve to live.You deserve to be happy and alive and I'm really sorry that that's not what you get, that you're not happy, and barely alive. But please, never do this again. Never put yourself in danger again, because you deserve to be alive and happy, even if you don't think you do. It wouldn't have ended the pain anyways. Suicide doesn't end the pain, it just passes it on to someone else. You've got to understand that. Nothing is worth hurting yourself over or putting yourself in danger over or taking your life over. The demons in your head say to do it, but they're wrong, and one day, you're going to kill them, even if it isn't today, or this month, or this year. One day, you'll look back on this and be glad you survived, I promise."

He pauses to take a deep breath, and is silent for a minute or two.

"Apparently, they interviewed people who had survived suicide attempts, trying to jump off the golden gate bridge. Apparently, every one of the survivors said that they regretted it as they were falling. They wanted to go back and not have jumped off the bridge. And they're all happy they lived to tell the tale. And you will be too, one day, even if it isn't today, or tomorrow, or the next day. Do you understand me?"

I wish I could say something, open my eyes, react.

He breaks down in sobs again. "Please wake up, Ty." He sobs. "Please." He sounds so desperate and miserable, the misery drawing the word out. He sets his head down on my chest and sobs into my shirt. He's grabbing at me, holding my body like it's a life raft on a rough ocean.

"Please wake up."

I squeeze his hand as hard as I can, but it ends up being very light.

He breaks down even more because of this. He lifts his head off my chest, and I feel that my shirt is damp with tears. "Tyler, please wake up."

I feel myself slowly coming back to consciousness. I can't open my eyes yet, but I can move a little bit.

"Tyler, please." He begs me. "I-I love you."

I'm stunned. I'm pretty sure that's the only time anyone has every said that to me. Josh Dun loves me. I didn't think this was possible. I didn't think it was possible to love me, especially after this. But here he is, sobbing at my bedside, telling me that he wants me to wake up, and that he loves me.

Slowly, I open my eyes. The world is blurry at first, but it comes into focus. Josh's face is buried in my chest again as his shoulders shake with sobs. He's still holding my hand like it's his last hope.

I gather the strength to say something, to use my words. I gather it all up inside, and I say the truest thing I can think of to say. "I love you too."

Josh startles a little bit and lifts his head from my chest, looking at me.

I look into his eyes. They are red and puffy, his whole face slick with tears and wrought with misery. His hair is a mess from him running his fingers through it. His eyes are full of pain. He's shaking and still sobbing. He sniffles, and pulls me into his arms, breaking into a fresh round of sobs and burying his face in my neck.

"God, Tyler. I love you so much. Never do this again. Never leave me again." He begs.

If I would have known that it would have affected him like this, maybe I wouldn't have done it. Now, I regret it. I don't feel sorry for myself, but I feel sorry for Josh, and I am sorry that I did this to him.

"I never will again." I promise. "I love you so much, Josh. I love you."

"I love you too." He says. "Never forget that."