I live for her

Chapter 22: Yellow Roses

There's only one thing I hate about suicide letters and if you can empathize, I'm both pleased and disheartened. But it's when... they don't tell you why. They don't tell you why "it was too much" and why they did it. So for almost the first week you'll see green stones in everybody's eyes - they'll remind you of her. And you'll spend walks to the bus stop wondering if you did enough. Wondering if you should have assaulted the abusive step father. Wondering if you should have done more than pray that night she let go of the Angel of Life's feet. Wondering if you should have done more than prayed that moment you received the message. Wondering if you should have ran the 20 kilometers that separated her life from your hands. Wondering if God let it happen... or the devil... or you. On the third day you actually stop going to school. You lie down on your bed trying to get God to talk to you and help you understand. You'll beg God for pity... but he won't give it to you like an African father after bestowing his child with a good beating. No matter what face you pull or sound you make - he doesn't budge. It will take a while for you to trust your dad again... but you eventually do - you forgive him - and he forgives you for not understanding that there's more to life than your will and getting what you want.

You never forget. So you write a book - hoping to forget.

It's when your fiancée sends you a text telling you it's late that you realise it is late, and realize you're still at the library, and realize it is raining outside and realize how you want to end the book.

You summon fibrinogen to close up the unseen mental wound as you tell them - the he or she reading this - the truth. You tell yourself not to consider what they think, you convince yourself the truth sometimes prevails over fiction.

So I present to you, the truth... or a truthful ending. Not really, just the only thing the book is missing is the gap between being suicidal to being... not suicidal. (It's the psychopathic tendencies. P.S. the psychopath thing was just a joke... but then again, that's something a psychopath who is good at faking being normal - would say. Argh, you can't see the psycho wink - it's better now, because I've got facial hair so it's definitely more creepy.).

This book's sole purpose has been portrayed to you - by me - as a means to get over the haunting of Jackie's suicide. It has another. As a doctor, I've seen enough suicidal attempts and as a teenager I've also been exposed to a lot of suicidal things. And, I know it sounds whack, but this is just to shed light on the solution that worked for me. The keyword is me. So read these closing words with an open mind - because poet's prefer open-minded audiences and close-minded audiences hear the poet but don't really hear the poet. So read this instead of "reading" it:

This is the last page I ever wrote into that diary:

Listen,

I know my life story makes no sense.

Suicide is the last thing

That should be

On a fifteen year old boy's mind.

And it's hard to explain.

But it's way more

Than just my dad

Saying hurtful things.

It's more like

ME believing

His hurtful hurls

Of degrading statements.

And feeling like

I was right

To hate myself.

But it's more than that.