It’s been five days since I lost the most wonderfully precious person I’ve ever known.
We met in a strange way, reading each other’s writing and in the end, wrote together. Many magical stories that will stay forever on the internet. Like my own personal treasure trove and remembrance. On Monday, time unknown to me as I’ve been given little details from their family, they ended their existence and took with them a great portion of me.
Now, this is the less magical, more regrettable part. I’m at fault for this. They were in love with me, through and through, and I adored them beyond anything – platonically. It takes me a long, long time to fall head over heels in love, and that was the first problem. I tried, oh I tried, but I failed at each hurdle and it only made matters worse.
They hated their home, and when they flew hours across an ocean to stay with me for two months, it was a relief for them. Although we weren’t speaking much as we’d just broken up over my lack of competence in relationships again, they still wanted to see me. And we had a tough, aching first day together after months of being apart (I’d seen them first in Florida), we mended things. Patched up the broken pieces and attempted to work through the storm to the sunshine we both saw.
It was fantastic… for a week or two. Then, I went downhill, and in turn, it affected my relationship and them. I felt trapped, suffocated, and unable to escape from the best thing in my life I couldn’t see at the time. In the end, I made a hasty, irrational decision to send them home a month early at the very beginning of August.
They begged me to stay. Pleaded and cried and I was stubbornly set in sending them away. And they went. With a grieving heart and obvious depression setting in, they left, and I couldn’t even say goodbye.
A coward. I was a fucking coward.
Time passed, a week or so after they went home, we spoke again. Or tried. I clammed up, broke away, and left them feeling unwanted, unspecial, and worthless. Unlovable. And that is when the cracks started to appear. More and more they posted on their social media that they wanted to die (one only I knew about, but they didn’t know I knew) and I watched it. Stood by and witnessed it without mentioning it as I didn’t want to seem like I breached their privacy. What a mistake that was.
Monday morning I woke up for work at 4am UK time and went. They messaged me one final time at 6am UK time, and that was one last response to the roleplay we’d held for the past two years over Skype. Not even for themselves, but for the characters we fleshed out together and grew to adore.
By the time I got home, they wouldn’t respond. I figured they were mad at me, and went to bed none the wiser. The next evening – yes, evening. I failed to even check in the morning – I found it online. Their suicide note. It stated that it was time and it felt incomplete as they had no one to tell, no one who would spare a moment to listen…
Frantically I tried to get a hold of them. Hours I waited until their mother responded to one of my messages, asking what had happened between us. I said I’d explain everything but first I wanted to know they were okay, for her to please tell me they were fine.
No. They had passed away. And I ran away in the middle of the night, heartbroken, devastated, and responsible for the death of my loved one.
I saw before. I could’ve told them. I could’ve saved them. But I did nothing. Said nothing. I murdered my best friend and love.
And now, I wish I was in their place. I wish I had the courage to join them right now instead of sitting here typing this, uselessly crying, wishing for nothing more than to see their smiling face again.
But I can’t because I’m nothing but a coward. One day, hopefully soon, I’ll stop being one and do what deserves to be done.
I’m so sorry, Elle.
5 comments
I just wanted you to know that I read this. I don’t know what to say, I really don’t. I want to say something along the lines of: “I can imagine the weight of this guilt that you have to bear”, but the truth is, I can’t imagine it. I’ve never lost a loved one in this way, and this is completely beyond my range of experience.
But what I can say is that I don’t think that your friend intended for you to feel this way. I think they only wanted to end their pain, not cause you any pain. And they certainly didn’t intend to make you want to die. I don’t think they would want you to die. It’s understandable that you feel guilty for what happened. But you killing yourself won’t bring your friend back, it’ll just rip you away from the people who care about you.
In the end, the choice is yours alone. But I just wanted to say that. And I’m so sorry for your loss.
I am so sorry for your loss. Just reading this hurt, so I can’t begin to imagine what you’re feeling now.
Fuck.
I know it’s hard to try to build some kind of relationship.
I can only imagine how hard it is to really try to love someone who loves you.
I know it’s strange to be physically close to someone you once had a relationship with.
I can only imagine how suffocating it must feel if they want to live with you for a long time.
I know it’s hard to try and help someone out of depression. Or even start talking about it.
I can only imagine how hard it is when you feel like you’re the main reason for their depression.
I know how bad it feels when you cause pain to someone.
I can only imagine how painful it is to realize the pain you caused damaged someone beyond repair.
I know it’s hard to talk to someone you hurt. And how easy to procrastinate.
I can only imagine how painful it is to realize that it’s too late to talk to them.
Don’t go easy on yourself.
Don’t take the easy way out.
This means: You have to stay alive and make up for it.
(that’s part of the reason i’m still alive, btw)
Find someone who is in need of help. Anyone who needs to be saved.
Dedicate your life to saving them.
And if they feel better, find another broken person to save.
I Know it’ll be hard. I know you’ll have to things in spite of youself.
I know it’ll give you flashbacks of what happened.
I know it’ll be hard to go through with it.
It’s okay if it doesn’t work out, you can find someone else to save.
It’s not okay to kill the possibility of making up for what you did.
It’s not okay to not learn from what just happened, and
It’s now okay to kill yourself, cause that would make her death truly pointless.
You have to stay alive now. And for this, I pity you.
I guess this really shows that having emotional problems/depression can ruin one’s relationships and actually lead to someone killing themselves because of you.
I’ve had the same experience so you’re not alone.