Okay, for those of you who follow any of my stories, I just wanted to apologize for my absence. I've been having a hard time lately. First I moved in January and then my mother died in April and then my computer crashed, but I hope to start writing again:) this is just something I came up with just thinking about what was going on in my life. It's personal but I feel like I want to share...is that bad?...Oh well. Here is just a small insight to what my thoughts are.
Cold wind rushes against her skin, tears falling from her eyes from the chill and the hole that invades her heart. This was the moment everyone had prepared her for; this was the moment she had dreaded for months. Realization, the true acceptance of what had happened. True, yes, she had seen the event with her own eyes. True, yes, she did break down then and there, but ever since, ever since an hour after the happening, she had become numb. Had she told anyone about her suicidal thoughts? Absolutely not. For if she did, she would not only be in therapy, but she'd most likely have medications too. Yet, when she drove by herself how could the thought of ending the pain so easily not enter her mind? Just a slight turn of the wheel, a blink of the eye, and it would all end. How could something so drastic, such an impact on so many lives, be so easy? If it wasn't for four people in her life, she would have ended it already. The sad part of all of it? She scolded anyone who even thought about self harm. Even she knew how ridiculously stupid the mere thoughts were, yet every night on her own the thoughts slithered into her mind, invading every stream of thought that entered her mind. Tears would stream down her face, sobs racking her body, breathless, and her body shaking, she would resist the easy way out.
She sees the world move on and continue on with their lives, yet she's stuck in the past, awaiting a return that will never happen. She continues the distractions to keep from the conclusion that everyone else had already accepted. It's almost as if she sits at the door counting down the minutes until her mother will walk up onto the porch with a smile on her face, the smell of cigarettes apparent on her clothes. Yet, this time when she would smell the scent, she would be more than happy to accept it.
In the back of her mind, she knows this will never be the outcome. She knows she has to face reality soon, but is her mental and emotional stability capable of handling that much weight? Can she deal with losing her best friend, her mother? She doesn't believe in herself, but others do. It's the only hope she has to get her life back to a relative normal.
Her arms wrap around her, her eyes closed. She takes long, slow, deep breaths. It helps. The pain doesn't ease or cease but it's getting to be tolerable. It's been there for so long that she now is getting used to the feeling that she knows will never leave.
Suicide was never a concept she had to think about before. She never imagined that someone so close to her would willingly leave her behind. Did she do something wrong? Did she not do enough for her mother? She only wishes that she could fix all the mistakes she knows she made. She wishes she could tell her just one last time how much she loved her. She wishes she could take back all the times she said she didn't want to be anything like her.
She knows the road ahead of her will be difficult to handle. She doesn't know how she'll handle it, if she even can, but all she can do now is breathe and take each day at a time. Step by step.