OLD
I nearly lost a friend last Friday, September the 28th, 2018. She was rushed to the hospital by her boyfriend. He got her there in time and she was rushed into surgery. If he had of hesitated, at all, she would have been lost to this world . . . I am glad she is alive, but she is one of the strongest people that I know . . . I never would have thought she would do this . . . She's not the type to cry, and I don't think I've ever witnessed her shed any tears . . . I've heard her, and I so wished I could have been by her side when she needed it. She had a busy schedule all the time, what with school and all. I did, too. Homework, after-school activities with clubs, the likes . . .
Now that I look back on that day, I'm dumbfounded by how I missed the warning signs of her being ready to greet Death himself . . . She was withdrawn . . . Angry at the whole world and nearly everyone she loved . . . She wasn't speaking much, but that had become her new normal . . . . Yes, I was terrified that she seemed like she'd nearly gone nearly fully mute . . . Yes, I know the warning signs of being ready to commit suicide . . . I've had them in myself . . . But as is sadly- albeit normally- the case, I hadn't realized it until completely after the fact . . . Until she'd actually attempted it . . . And nearly succeeded . . . How I utterly DESPISE that word in this case . . . . Yet I have no other way of saying it in my current vocabulary . . . Thankfully she was NOT successful in this, and she has been discharged from the hospital . . . She is in the care of her family and boyfriend now, and she will always have my support . . . No matter what . . . Not even life and how it has its own way of throwing things in your path will ever stop me . . . I will always be there for her, even if she feels she doesn't want it, nor need it . . . Not even that will keep me away from helping her. I know the fear of being abandoned by those you love all too well, and will NOT do that to her. Ever. She is one of the very few that I let see under my mask . . . The mask I wear on a daily basis just to keep sane . . . Once this mask breaks, I shall forge a newer, stronger one and wear it.
If the world saw how broken I really was, and not the small amount that I do actually show, so I at least seem human. I know that the world isn't actually out to get me, but when you've been broken as badly as I have, you'd feel like that, too . . . A highly toxic home life doesn't help . . . Nor does having suicidal ideations for nearly four weeks straight, either . . . It'll be four on October the first, twenty-eighteen. I relapsed during Geometry that Friday.
YOU ARE READING
50 Days, 50 letters
PoetryThis is going to be a day by day thing, 100 letters to my boyfriend, my parents, my friends, and others. I will change names and such, for privacy reasons, but it will still be a letter to them. It may take time to pick up, and be daily, but I'll wo...
