Ticking

One Month

One Month

  I’ve been obsessed with writing my own music. It’s been one month.

  One month since you saved me from my despair.

  One month since you changed my view of life with a few words.

  I was in debt to you for eternity, because my life was truly not worth one second, neither was a worth a minute nor an hour. I was grateful you believed I deserved a new point of view in life, I was truly grateful because you changed my life with just one question.

  I smile at the thought of the question you first asked me. No, it hadn’t been the typical what’s your name.

  Why do you even consider doing this? Why throw away your life in one second?

  The two questions echo in my mind. Before you saved me I had never even thought I would decide to continue living and here I am, one month after my suicide attempt, living my life happily, something I never expected to do. And it was all thanks to you.

  I gaze out of my window, grinning at the song book filled with lyrics beside me. My guitar stood on a rack near the wall. My office door opens soundlessly.

  Changed your song writing spot then? Your voice frightens me, questioning me teasingly. I spin around in fright, scowling when I saw it was just you. I turn back to gazing out of my window, watching the birds flying past gracefully. You walk behind me and accompany me in gazing at the view outside my window in comfortable silence.

  Have you ever considered where you would be in a year’s time? You ask me with a blissful smile on your face.

  That’s a stupid question, I argue back.

  Why so? You look curiously at me, daring me to come up with a good argument, your eyes glinting.

  Because we don’t know what would happen in the future you dummy, I giggle out of a sudden. You and I have a good laugh.

  Why not think about it though? You grin at me.

  Because I don’t want to get my hopes up, I reply without looking at you, my pen moving swiftly on the paper of my song book.

  Why not? It’s ok to have a little hope.

  That night I sat on the rooftop, strumming my guitar and singing. I received an email the next day, saying somebody wanted to meet me to sign a contract on a record label. Maybe it was ok to have a little hope.

  So much could happen in one month.