The Problem is Me [EDITED)

Chapter 20

November, 2014

I’ve been granted the opportunity to go and visit Evan’s grave today.

Yeah, waking up is still a hard thing to do. I had an awful time getting to sleep last night; I don’t think I actually passed out until six before being woke up at eight.

Things have turned horribly depressing, maybe more depressing than when Guy Fawkes failed at blowing up parliament. I should probably stop hoping for things to liven up around here, everyone’s like a walking corpse anyway

For fucks sake, I don’t want to feel this way anymore. It’s ruining everything for me.

Recently I have come to the conclusion that I was so used to Evan being around that when he suddenly wasn’t anymore, I was a bit taken back.

For the love of god, I wasn’t even allowed to attend the funeral.

Isn’t it just fucking terrifying how quickly things can change? No matter how normal things are, no matter how many promises are made, and no matter how long you’ve known someone they can just be gone. Just like that, and you have to carry on living because the world doesn’t stop for any of us.  

I’m going to give you a word of advice, always walk alone; because the friends, the ones who claim to always be there for you will be the first ones to go.

Remember before I mentioned that when I was a kid, I was strangely fascinated by death? Well its coming back with vengeance, I’m starting to really think about dying and what happens when you do so.

 Everyone has heard of the "your life flashes before your eyes when you die" situation, but not many people know the reason for it.

When something goes wrong, your brain can usually deal with it by using past experiences to deal with things. For example, falling over, your brain knows that if you don’t stop yourself you will get hurt, this has been learned when you were very small and fell over without stopping yourself.

This goes on, instantly in your brain without you realizing, all throughout your life, that’s why kids are always hurting themselves a lot when falling over whereas adults can usually sort themselves out. Your brain learns how to deal with certain situations

When you’re dying, your brain knows that something is very wrong. But your brain has never died before, it doesn’t know what to do, it can’t find anything instantly.

So it frantically searches through your memories for a similar experience in an act to try and save you, but it can’t find one. So it keeps searching and searching until your very last breath.

Even at the very end, your brain is still fighting like hell for you. And I think that’s pretty damn cool.

Well, that’s my theory anyway.

It’s November now, and I can safely say that October was hard. It’s one of the first times I’ve said that I wanted to die and actually meant it, I don’t think that’s a very good thing to tell my therapist.

The other day Aiden asked me, by writing it down of course, to define insanity and I swear to god I almost wrote my own name down. I ended up writing society as the answer, but I couldn’t quite think straight after that.

It’s just, fucking hell. You know what I mean?

Once, about a week before he killed himself, Evan and I had a conversation at about 2am.

“I can’t save you."

I can vaguely remember whispering those words into the darkness of our bedroom at two in the morning. He kept telling me he wanted to die he kept saying “Please save me, Nathan, tell me what I should do. I don’t want to be here anymore.” And I couldn’t think of a thing to say to the kid.

I knew a farewell tour when I saw one. I’ve spent my whole life living around other people following in each other’s footsteps, even when their entire lives had been dedicated to doing the exact opposite.

I’ve seen countless people giving me that lingering glance before they did something, usually for the greater good, that would essentially be putting the metaphorical noose around their own necks and kicking out the chair from beneath themselves.

With my kind of lifestyle, happy endings weren’t just uncommon, they were impossible.

I understood this well now.

But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try for one.

Because ever since I had woken up, I’ve been unknowingly displaying every single telltale sign of the man packing his bags for the road down. I was trying my damn hardest not to show it, but even when there was radio silence, Evan could’ve read me better than a book. It was like reaching into his own thoughts— maybe even easier.

You see, I have a plan.

I’m not going to go into that, purely for the fact that Evan’s grave is making me want to be sick.

The grave stone was simple, a large grey marble stone with some words printed onto it. In front a few bouquets of flowers were placed and in front of them were cards which read things like ‘To a very special person, you will be forever in my heart.’ And you could almost smell the bullshit coming off them. If they’d of cared about him, they wouldn’t have let it come to this.

I brushed the flowers back to read the grave stone, it said; ‘In Loving Memory of Evan Matthew Tate who took his final breath on November 4th 2014’ I smiled sadly and let the flowers go back to their previous position. Slowly, I sat down leaning up against the back of the gravestone.

"19/11/00 - 4/11/14"

“It’s been almost six months since we first met, I bet you didn’t know I kept track of those things did you?” I laughed softly. “Remember the first time we met? It was so awkward because you just stood there staring at me, to be honest you never really did stop staring at me.” I sighed.

I ran a shaky hand through my hair and swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “Look I miss you. I didn’t realize how tough it was to not have you in my life. I thought people leaving and death was hard but losing my best friend has been killing me for the past month. Literally killing me, I wasn’t supposed to be able to care about anyone. So what the fuck is this, huh?” I dug the heel of my shoe into the grass and created a dent.

“Oh fucking hell.” I muttered as a single tear left a warm trail down my face before it curled around my jaw and dripped onto my jeans. “You know what? I applaud you for having the guts to do what you did. If I had the guts, I probably wouldn’t be here right now. I’d probably be dead. But I’m too scared, how much of a baby can I possibly be? I don’t want to wake up every day knowing I’m alive and you’re not. I don’t want to wake up every day forgetting you’re gone, and then having the hit-by-a-bus feeling of remembering you are.” I half shouted, kicking the ground again as I felt unshed tears gather in my eyes.

I smiled painfully, “By the way, I bet your funeral sucked.”

I don’t know why it never occurred to me before, but I could easily get away. The people who brought me here were around the corner giving me some privacy, so I could quite simply just walk the other way.

I wiped my face with my hands and sniffled, before smirking. “I’ll see you later, cool dude.” I patted the headstone and took off in the opposite direction to where I was supposed to go.

Probably the most aggressive speed walk you will ever see.

The rusty gates creaked as I made my way out of the graveyard, and jogged down the street into the town. To my left was a pretty rough looking liquor bar that I could hear the faint muffled voices of drunken men coming from. Straight ahead were run down shops, I hadn’t a clue where I was going to go but I kept on walking anyway.

I believe I have just made either the best, or the worst decision of my life.