Ticking

One Year

One Year

  After I signed that contract, my life was a blur and I haven't spoken to you in ages. Before I knew it, a year has passed. And I missed your words of wisdom terribly. I thought of you when I was down, I thought of you while I performed, I thought of you when I stare at the night sky, the hobby we shared and did together every night on the very same rooftop.

  A year after my suicide attempt, I find myself standing on that very same rooftop where we met. I waited for you, hoping I would catch you. But I was greeted with a devastating sight. I saw you standing at the spot where I had been a year ago. I saw you contemplating the same things I did a year ago. I saw my choices a year ago whisk past me in a flash of light.

  Why did you even consider this? Is your life worth a decision of a second? I hear myself call out to you.

  You turn around, tears rolling down your cheeks. Your eyes widened when you saw me there, carrying a guitar like I always did. You stood there looking at me. I step towards you.

  It's you...Your voice trails off in uncertainty. I asked you those very same questions one year ago.

  What are you doing then? Get away from there and greet your good old friend who came back specially to visit you, I smile at you encouragingly, stretching out my arms. You stay there unmoving, looking down, unable to look at me. My smile begins to fade as I walk towards you.

  What happened to you in that nine months I was gone? Why did you become the person I had been before you saved me? I say quietly, watching your actions carefully.

  Because there's nothing left to live for, you cry, throwing your hands up.

  A year ago, you told that I could have chosen to live for myself, if you hadn't stopped me from jumping off, I say.

  You look at me, your lower lip trembling. You run off the edge towards me, tackling me and pulling me into a tight hug. And we just sat there admiring the night sky like the good old times, like the good old happy times as time is ticking by.