Four years ago, I lost my bestfriend to suicide. He was rushed to the hospital but his family made the decision to turn off his life support the following day. I was 400km away in a small, shitty country town where everyone either has multiple babies or is addicted to drugs. One of my other bestfriends, Julian, was by his side, on the phone with me, so I could sob my final goodbye while he still had a beating heart.
Let me give you a rundown of how much of a great person he was. When I was young, angsty and thought the world was against me, I went to Jamie. His parents welcomed me into their lives like I was one of their own. I helped cook and clean, I had my own room with a fold out futon and a desk of draws. It was amazing. It was perfect. We did so much together. He would sit on the couch and I would lay down with my head on his lap while he played with my hair. One thing people always misunderstood was that we were platonic. I would have died for him. I almost did die for him. I loved him so, so much but I still felt lonely. I still felt like a bit of me was missing, I didn't feel whole.
Jamie and I would go for drives to the falls, cruise along the Western Australian coast, take a million photos of us doing nothing. He reminded me every day that I was beautiful and that I had an amazing soul. Unfortunately, I ended up getting a super rare, incurable disease. Because of that I got a bunch of secondary diseases and spent months on end in the hospital. Jamie only visited me once and didn't visit again but we spoke every day. I asked him why he wouldn't come back and he informed me that it was too hard to see me in that situation and he encouraged me every day to get better and try harder. I did. I got to go home but I wasn't better.
Fast forward to my 19th. He and a bunch of our... crew. I guess that's what you would call it. They all took the four hour drive through the countryside to come be with me for my birthday. It was amazing. Even though I felt like trash and everything was hurting, I loved every minute of it. They all slept at my house and we stayed up almost all night until I had to get rushed to the hospital because of the severe pain I was in. I had to stay in hospital for the next few nights so I didn't get to have a proper goodbye.
Now we fast forward a few years to the final Soundwave festival held in Perth. Soundwave is a music festival for metal bands. Some terrible bands go too, but I guess they're good to some people. While I was in Perth for the festival I surprised Jamie and went to his house. It was so good to see him and hug him and just sit and talk with him for hours.
Fast forward another few years to him breaking up with his long term girlfriend and Julian breaking his leg. This was around the time of my birthday and we organized for Jamie and I to go to Julian's for a birthday dinner that his mum cooked for us. After the dinner and some hours of catching up, laughing and crying, Jamie and I left. On our way to the train station, it was three blocks away, there was a park that we stopped at. We spoke and cried for another two hours, talking about my disease, talking about his break up, talking about anything and everything. We got to the train station, gave each other the biggest hug and he did his normal 'tuck my hair behind my ear and call me beautiful,' then we told each other how much we loved each other and went our separate ways. That was the last time I seen him.
The demons in Jamie's head took over and he ended it. He was no longer in pain
