Strength
----------------------------------------------------------
I tried to kill myself again.
Almost.
Sort of.
Okay, not really. This time I got as close as loading the bullets into the gun my dad keeps hidden underneath his mattress, but again, nothing happened.
I stared at it for a while, my finger unsteady on the trigger. Then I took the bullets out and put the gun back where I found it.
I don't know what stops me.
Whenever I have thoughts like this, I think about the life I'd leave behind.
Who would miss me?
I can never really think of anyone besides my mom and dad.
Not that I ever thought anyone else would notice.
The one person I 'd ever want to would probably be the last to know.
And even then, I doubt she'd care.
There have been so many times I wish I could tell her how I feel about her, but when it comes to finding the courage to do that, I'd probably be able to kill myself before that ever happened.
I'd like to think that I don't give a shit what other people think of me, and for the most part, I don't. But if I were dead…it would just be so…permanent. The sad truth is I'm more worried about what people will say about me when I'm gone than while I'm still here.
I think that's normal though. When you think about death. I mean it's gotta happen sometime. Who would come to your funeral, what would be said?
"Seth Cohen? Was he the one that sat behind you in Geometry? No? He didn't take geometry? Well maybe he was that one kid, the one with the leg braces. Not him either?
Oh well, he's gone, what does it matter?"
You'd think thoughts like this would make me want to be somebody, establish myself in Newport society. And who's to say I haven't tried to?
I've been to enough social gatherings with grandpa with full intent on being 'that' guy.' But I hate that guy. Why am I so desperate to be him?
I learned to stop being someone I'm not a long time ago.
The only downside is the someone I am just isn't good enough for the likes of Newport.
I'm the emo geek in a room full of water polo players.
It's sad to live life in this Newport bubble when you know there's a whole other world out there. I can't relate to anyone and I've distanced myself so that I can't, even if I wanted to.
It's a lonely life, but it's one you choose early on. This was the choice I made. Am I happy with it? Not really. I mean who really chooses to be alone?
Well I did.
So again I have to ask myself, what stops me from pulling the trigger? What do I have to live for?
I mean, really?
I have no friends and the girl of my dreams has no idea I even exist.
It might not make much sense, but it's thoughts like these that actually hold me back.
She holds me back.
----------------------------------------------------------
I told her.
And she kissed me.
SHE kissed ME.
It was definitely not how I planned it.
And I'd definitely thought about it.
Many, many times.
When I thought about it, I never really saw my face. It was usually just a blur on top of a body. I just remember being totally confident about the whole thing. I would pull her aside, look her straight in the eye and just tell her.
I'd tell her how the first time I saw her, I knew.
I mean, I don't know how I knew, I was 10 years old, but somehow…I did. It's not anything I can even explain, not to myself, and least of all her, but in my head, I'd always say the right thing. She'd know what I meant and I would too.
And it would be perfect.
She wouldn't be ditching me for other guys while I mumbled something about mermaids and squirrels…That was never in the plan.
To be honest, I don't even remember what I said. Words began to fumble over other words and all of a sudden she was kissing me.
And as many times as I dreamed about kissing her, every dream I could have envisioned could never compare to the real thing. To feel her lips pressed against mine in all actuality was something that I don't think I can ever describe.
Just as the sort of intuition I had when I first saw her.
Some things just can't be explained. And they shouldn't need to be.
----------------------------------------------------------
I stuck the gun in my mouth.
But I was still scared.
I looked down at the barrel between my teeth and felt the cold metal on my tongue. I pulled it back out.
I'm still a coward.
It's frustrating me now. Why can't I do it? I want to. I want to pull the trigger.
This time I thought of her.
I mean, I always think of her. But I was so close this time. My hands were shaking, but I'd gotten the gun in my mouth.
Why did I pull it out?
I've been thinking about it.
I messed up. She wanted me, and I was scared. I wasn't strong enough yet. I played it safe because I was still afraid.
But I can't lose her again.
I've told her how I feel about her, and yet she still doesn't know.
I mean, she KNOWS, but she doesn't REALLY know. I need her to know, to feel it in the depths of her soul. Because if she doesn't…then what's the point?
It can't be rushed, I've decided. But it needs to happen.
She's giving me strength…
----------------------------------------------------------
She let me touch her.
I mean really touch her.
Even though every kiss still feels like new, for her to let me get inside her, to really know her, was something entirely different.
6 years of dreaming about her and I had about a thousand different scenarios for this in my head. It was always mind blowing.
But this…wasn't.
And I got scared again. Would if I'm wrong? Would if I've always been wrong?
The second time added further doubt.
I wanted this to work, I NEEDED this to work. If it didn't…I was back to where I started. My strength was gone.
I felt weak.
Now I hate myself to think I doubted it. I should've known better. That feeling I felt when I first saw her, that's not something that can be mistaken.
Dreams have an awful way of misleading you, especially if you're lucky enough to get the reality.
And I was.
And it wasn't like the dream at all. But that was okay.
I realize that now.
Because now, it's more than a dream could possibly do justice to. I actually know her. And she knows me too. This kind of intimacy is new to me, and I know it's just as new for her.
My courage is slowly building. I love her. I know that. I think she loves me, but I can't be sure.
And I need to be.
100%.
She's mine now, but not really.
I need her to call my own. Then and only then will I have the strength.
----------------------------------------------------------
I can do it now.
She's mine.
And I can actually say that. And it's true.
I needed to test her, to see if everything she felt for me could withstand anything.
And she passed.
I pulled her up on that table, in front of all the stupid jocks and cheerleaders, in front of everybody, and she kissed me.
And she meant it.
I know she loves me, I can feel it when she looks at me, when she touches me. I feel it all the way through my body, and now I know she does too.
She's my strength. She's my courage.
That's why I can do it now. I can pull the trigger.
Because I know that when I'm gone, someone's going to miss me.
The only one that ever mattered.
----------------------------------------------------------
I tried to kill myself again.
Almost.
Sort of.
Okay, not really. This time I got as close as loading the bullets into the gun my dad keeps hidden underneath his mattress, but again, nothing happened.
I stared at it for a while, my finger unsteady on the trigger. Then I took the bullets out and put the gun back where I found it.
I don't know what stops me.
Whenever I have thoughts like this, I think about the life I'd leave behind.
Who would miss me?
I can never really think of anyone besides my mom and dad.
Not that I ever thought anyone else would notice.
The one person I 'd ever want to would probably be the last to know.
And even then, I doubt she'd care.
There have been so many times I wish I could tell her how I feel about her, but when it comes to finding the courage to do that, I'd probably be able to kill myself before that ever happened.
I'd like to think that I don't give a shit what other people think of me, and for the most part, I don't. But if I were dead…it would just be so…permanent. The sad truth is I'm more worried about what people will say about me when I'm gone than while I'm still here.
I think that's normal though. When you think about death. I mean it's gotta happen sometime. Who would come to your funeral, what would be said?
"Seth Cohen? Was he the one that sat behind you in Geometry? No? He didn't take geometry? Well maybe he was that one kid, the one with the leg braces. Not him either?
Oh well, he's gone, what does it matter?"
You'd think thoughts like this would make me want to be somebody, establish myself in Newport society. And who's to say I haven't tried to?
I've been to enough social gatherings with grandpa with full intent on being 'that' guy.' But I hate that guy. Why am I so desperate to be him?
I learned to stop being someone I'm not a long time ago.
The only downside is the someone I am just isn't good enough for the likes of Newport.
I'm the emo geek in a room full of water polo players.
It's sad to live life in this Newport bubble when you know there's a whole other world out there. I can't relate to anyone and I've distanced myself so that I can't, even if I wanted to.
It's a lonely life, but it's one you choose early on. This was the choice I made. Am I happy with it? Not really. I mean who really chooses to be alone?
Well I did.
So again I have to ask myself, what stops me from pulling the trigger? What do I have to live for?
I mean, really?
I have no friends and the girl of my dreams has no idea I even exist.
It might not make much sense, but it's thoughts like these that actually hold me back.
She holds me back.
----------------------------------------------------------
I told her.
And she kissed me.
SHE kissed ME.
It was definitely not how I planned it.
And I'd definitely thought about it.
Many, many times.
When I thought about it, I never really saw my face. It was usually just a blur on top of a body. I just remember being totally confident about the whole thing. I would pull her aside, look her straight in the eye and just tell her.
I'd tell her how the first time I saw her, I knew.
I mean, I don't know how I knew, I was 10 years old, but somehow…I did. It's not anything I can even explain, not to myself, and least of all her, but in my head, I'd always say the right thing. She'd know what I meant and I would too.
And it would be perfect.
She wouldn't be ditching me for other guys while I mumbled something about mermaids and squirrels…That was never in the plan.
To be honest, I don't even remember what I said. Words began to fumble over other words and all of a sudden she was kissing me.
And as many times as I dreamed about kissing her, every dream I could have envisioned could never compare to the real thing. To feel her lips pressed against mine in all actuality was something that I don't think I can ever describe.
Just as the sort of intuition I had when I first saw her.
Some things just can't be explained. And they shouldn't need to be.
----------------------------------------------------------
I stuck the gun in my mouth.
But I was still scared.
I looked down at the barrel between my teeth and felt the cold metal on my tongue. I pulled it back out.
I'm still a coward.
It's frustrating me now. Why can't I do it? I want to. I want to pull the trigger.
This time I thought of her.
I mean, I always think of her. But I was so close this time. My hands were shaking, but I'd gotten the gun in my mouth.
Why did I pull it out?
I've been thinking about it.
I messed up. She wanted me, and I was scared. I wasn't strong enough yet. I played it safe because I was still afraid.
But I can't lose her again.
I've told her how I feel about her, and yet she still doesn't know.
I mean, she KNOWS, but she doesn't REALLY know. I need her to know, to feel it in the depths of her soul. Because if she doesn't…then what's the point?
It can't be rushed, I've decided. But it needs to happen.
She's giving me strength…
----------------------------------------------------------
She let me touch her.
I mean really touch her.
Even though every kiss still feels like new, for her to let me get inside her, to really know her, was something entirely different.
6 years of dreaming about her and I had about a thousand different scenarios for this in my head. It was always mind blowing.
But this…wasn't.
And I got scared again. Would if I'm wrong? Would if I've always been wrong?
The second time added further doubt.
I wanted this to work, I NEEDED this to work. If it didn't…I was back to where I started. My strength was gone.
I felt weak.
Now I hate myself to think I doubted it. I should've known better. That feeling I felt when I first saw her, that's not something that can be mistaken.
Dreams have an awful way of misleading you, especially if you're lucky enough to get the reality.
And I was.
And it wasn't like the dream at all. But that was okay.
I realize that now.
Because now, it's more than a dream could possibly do justice to. I actually know her. And she knows me too. This kind of intimacy is new to me, and I know it's just as new for her.
My courage is slowly building. I love her. I know that. I think she loves me, but I can't be sure.
And I need to be.
100%.
She's mine now, but not really.
I need her to call my own. Then and only then will I have the strength.
----------------------------------------------------------
I can do it now.
She's mine.
And I can actually say that. And it's true.
I needed to test her, to see if everything she felt for me could withstand anything.
And she passed.
I pulled her up on that table, in front of all the stupid jocks and cheerleaders, in front of everybody, and she kissed me.
And she meant it.
I know she loves me, I can feel it when she looks at me, when she touches me. I feel it all the way through my body, and now I know she does too.
She's my strength. She's my courage.
That's why I can do it now. I can pull the trigger.
Because I know that when I'm gone, someone's going to miss me.
The only one that ever mattered.