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My Dearest Friend,
Writing this letter to you brings sad and bitter tears to my eyes. I realize now, however late, that I have neglected you in our friendship for too long. I just hope, with all of my heart, that this letter will change your contemplations and your thoughts of possible suicide. The tears are flowing freely down my face now, no barriers surrounding them, and I’m not trying to stop them. I deserve this, for treating you the way I did, not lending an ear, or a shoulder in your time of need. When I think about you finishing your life, just ending it suddenly, your young life, a privilege from God, makes images flash through my mind, images I would rather not see. Maybe cutting your wrists, gives you assurance that life in fact is not a dream, but it is so harmful. That night, when I saw you, when I saw you slitting your wrists, I cried. I cried all night, eventually falling into a restless, dreamless sleep. I knew then, that I had been a horrible friend, untrustworthy, and mean. I knew then, that I had to make it up to you.
I knew after that night, that you were thinking about suicide, that you wanted to end your pain and suffering, and leave this world forever. I know I was part of your pain, I didn’t think it was so serious, telling rumors about you, bullying you, hitting you, fighting with you in the hallways, I never really thought that it would hurt you so much. There was emotional pain as well, your father; I knew he was part of your pain, right alongside my taunting, and abuse. I’m not stupid, I knew what he did to you, I knew how he struck you, and how he yelled at you. I saw all of the fresh cuts and bruises on your arms and legs. But I did not have the courage to say anything to you, or to do anything, not even tell a teacher, so that maybe, just maybe it would have made something better. I do not know how I knew about your suicidal thoughts, but I need to at least try to convince you to rethink this. If I hadn’t tried, I would have slowly deteriorated into nothingness, for not being there, for not trying to save a life, your life.
You may think that I’m being selfish, that the only reason I don’t want you to die, is so that you will be here for me, in my time of need. But I must insist to you now, that I have changed, changed for the better. I know I was a horrible friend, and that I don’t deserve your friendship, your attention even. I bullied you, I did so many horrible things to you, deserted you for the more “popular” group of girls, instead of the “goth freak,” which is what everyone used to call you, when you actually went to school. Every time I needed someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to my troubles, you came. I need you to trust me, even if you never trust me, or talk to me again. Suicide is not the answer, and it never will be. I know things will get better, if you come through this, we can get your dad away from you, your mom, and your brother. We can make your future brighter, if only you give it the chance.
Do you remember the times we had together? The happy ones, the sad ones, and the times that seemed so insignificant at the time? I do. I remember all of them, and I smile when I think about what good friends we used to be. I remember those times we cried with each other, the times we laughed with each other, and the times we were just there with each other. Those insignificant moments we had together, mean more to me now than maybe even you could never imagine. You showed me that I wasn’t alone in this world, that I wasn’t the only one who had ever lost a parent. You comforted me, and helped me through my darkest hour. You held me and let me sob on your shoulder when I found out about my mom. I know that I was selfish in our relationship, and I wish so much that I could go back, and do everything differently. I talked about my feelings with you, I confided in you more than I had in any other person. You offered me advice, and you gave me a shoulder to lean on, and lent me a listening ear. But, I never let you talk; you suffered inside too, maybe even more than I had.
I regret that with all my heart now, the deepest recesses of my heart are ripped, torn, and destroyed but you reside there, along with our memories together, and everything I regret about the things I did to you, reside there, and they weigh me down like lead. I care so much about you. And now, in your time of need, I encourage you to come talk me like I used to come to you. This time when we talk, it will be all about you. I can help you through this, I know what it feels like, for if you can remember, I went through this myself, and you were there for me.
Suicide is the easy way out. I know you love challenges; you always have, and always will. And maybe that is why you said hello to me on my first day at a new school. You summoned up enough courage for that tiny act, I was awed, and I was awed even more when I learned how shy you really are. That moment is one of my most treasured, and I will never forget it. If you could summon up the courage, the courage that you had that first day we met, and put it against those thoughts of suicide, then I know you will survive this whole ordeal. I know; in my heart that you can make it out if you try.
Think of your family, your friends, everyone who cares about you, or ever cared about you. If you killed yourself, in whatever way you did, hanging yourself, slitting your wrists, suffocating yourself, drowning yourself, drugs, there are so many horrible ways to kill yourself. Think about what would happen to them, your family, think about the effect you would place on them. They would be devastated, crushed. They would blame themselves for not noticing your depression, not noticing the fresh scars on your arms and thighs, which you hid under those long sleeves and pants. Your little cousin, imagine what she would think when her parents, your aunt and uncle, told her, with tears in their eyes, that her role model, the person she looked up to, you, have died. Her 8-year-old mind wouldn’t be able to comprehend the fact that you ended your own life. She would learn that years later, and she would never be able to forgive you for this horrible action, and for not being there when she needed you most, in her time of need. I know you love your family, but if you make this mistake, you will make their lives hell. They will suffer if you do not get help to end this depression, these horrible thoughts. They wouldn’t be able to have another Christmas party, without thinking about you; they couldn’t have a barbeque on the grill together, without your absence weighing down upon them. Stop thinking about how much you want to die, and how much you want to go somewhere else, away from this world. Think about the people who walk by you in the hallway, the people who care about you, the people who love you.
You are in one of the darkest periods of your life, and I understand your depression. You are contemplating between life and death. This will be the most important decision of your life, if you make the right choice, you will come out stronger than ever before in the end. I’m here for you, and always will be. Contact me, call me, anything, just let me know you are all right at the end of each day. If you do this one thing, everyday from now on, I will rest assured that you are ok, and that you still haven’t committed suicide.
Writing this letter is slowly breaking my heart. Slowly, one by one, pieces are weakening, cracking, falling from my heart, into a deep, bottomless pit. You, and only you can reach down and pick up the pieces one by one, just like you used to, and put them back together, just like a puzzle. I can help you too; I can mend your heart as you mend mine. Together we can do great things, but we need effort on both sides, effort from me, as well as you. You can come out fine in the end, but you need to try, you need to try like you have never tried for anything in your life. If you do this, I will be in awe of you for the rest of my life. If you do this, you can change, we can be friends once again. We can start over, clear the slate, start from the beginning.
I know I haven’t been the best friend I could have been. That I was mean to you, even though you did everything for me. You were the best friend that I ever had and most likely ever will have, and even though we aren’t friends now, I need you to trust me. Trust me, please; suicide is not the answer to your problems. Maybe I have helped you, and maybe we could be friends again. Maybe you will come out from this, but still hate me. I understand why you would do this; I was so horrible to you. I’m so ashamed of myself, I think I’m a disgrace for doing this to you, but if you could do this one last favor, stay alive? Is that such a hard thing to do? Yes, there will be hard times, there will be tough times, but don’t be ashamed or scared to call for help. As many bad things there are, there are ten times more better things, so think on the bright side of things, however hard that might be now. Please, I’m begging you. Trust me on this one thing, even if you never do anything I ask, or plead for again.
Trust me and know that suicide is not the answer.
This is for Paula T’s contest “Don’t do it!!!!” I think strongly on my opinion of suicide, it is not the answer. My mother hasn’t died; I just wanted to let you know. This is a fiction piece only, and the things discussed here, are part of my imagination. This is my first story, and I’m a little nervous to see what people will think about it so, tell me what you think! :) :)
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