"I've had people actually on their way to harm themselves kind of stall because they were thrown off because somebody was nice, and I think that is where it starts. It just starts with reaching out to people, saying hey what's up, you matter to me, I'm glad you're in my world."
Beyond the Reasons
Hi, it's Hannah…again.
I actually already made tapes just like this one before. Well, not just like this one. I have 7 of them, thirteen sides recorded, I thought about doing this one on the fourteenth side, but I couldn't. So, this is a completely new tape to tell the story. Your story Clay.
Looking back on it now, hours later, I realize that it was a small thing, but it shook my world at the time. I'm still reeling from it.
After school, today I went over to the Cresmont to drop off my uniform. Or more like throw it away – I just slapped it down on the counter, turned on my heel and headed out the door.
I was just out the door walking down the sidewalk, arms curled around my chest, when I heard it.
"Hannah! Wait up!"
It took me a moment to turn around. I was afraid of being wrong, even if I recognized the voice. But I did. I turned around and I saw.
"Clay?" I sounded disbelieving. I was disbelieving. I am still in disbelief.
But there you were. Standing before me all adorkably awkward, fidgeting in place, clutching at the sleeves of your Cresmont uniform. "Hey, Hannah," you said at last.
"Why?" It was all I could say. That one word meant more than you could realize.
Sure enough, you did not catch it. "I know you're still mad at me," I remember thinking What? A single word that just rocked me; you went on, "but you just left without a word." Then you looked up at me. Caught my gaze. At that moment, it felt like time froze like you did have that superpower and made everyone else around us on that busy street had just vanish. In that second the world narrowed down to just us two.
"Is there something wrong?"
I should have said everything was fine. It was the first thing to come to mind, but when I opened my mouth the words would not come out. I closed it. I opened my mouth again, but still no words came. The emotions came pouring then, one after another, a dizzying almost pitch black process, like a muddy hand had clutched my gut and squeezed up all along my throat but still the words would not come – not even as word vomit to dump on your head.
I felt the wetness on my cheeks as my shoulders began to shake. It started slow, I remember, a trickle but then a downpour. I could hear myself sobbing but it was indistinct – like I was hearing myself through a thick wall. But more than that, I could feel those emotions again, that blackness, that void, circling about my body – filling the cracks.
It couldn't have been a pretty cry.
But that didn't stop you. I felt the warmth envelop me, a pair of arms wrapped around my back. My head was pressed down into the crook of his neck. A hug. The tears began again, and I gasped for air against his neck as I clutched the back of your uniform – the cloth scrunching in my hands. Warm. It felt warm. I was drowning in warmth, as I gasped for air and continued to cry against your shoulder.
You didn't say "it's alright" or anything like that. You just drew circles on my back – moving your hand around and around. A constant reminder of "I'm here." I can't tell you how grateful I am for that.
The sobbing stopped slowly. I did not stop all at once but slowed down to a gradual stop. I released your back (I had it in a de-strong grip), took a step back and looked around.
First I saw the counter, the plush chairs, then finally my table.
I was in Monet's.
"How?" I croaked.
"We walked." I would almost think you were being a smartass if you weren't you, Clay.
"Three blocks?"
"I tried to get us to stop sooner but you refused to enter anyplace else until we got here."
Refused to stop hugging and crying on you, you meant. I probably should be embarrassed but I just felt tired. Speaking of which, I could see it - a dark and damp spot on your left shoulder. Reaching from your collar bone all the way to the edge. I just stared at it for a moment, then, I'm still not sure why, but I lifted my hand to trail my fingers along your shoulder - to feel the wetness beneath my fingertips.
You clasped your hand over mine, tentatively, like you were petting a feral animal – unsure of whether it would bite you. A girl cried on you Clay and hugged you so tightly that I'm sure joints popped and you're still hesitant? I wonder what that night looked like to you – what I looked like to you.
"C'mon," you said softly, heading over to a pair of chairs in the corner. Comfy looking.
Still, I froze in place, my eyes naturally trailing upwards to my table. I headed to it, climbing up the stairs. You looked on for a moment, face scrunching up in confusion, but then you followed me.
Silence descended after we took our seats – I didn't know what to say and I guess you didn't either. No, that's wrong. You probably had something to say, questions that had to be knocking around in your head. Even then, I knew that. I knew so I just cut you off before you said it.
"I know you want to ask."
But of course you play dumb, "Ask what?"
Once again, the words just didn't come out, there was so much there, so much you didn't know, so much I didn't know how to tell you. I looked to the side, off the table, to the carpeted floor below.
"You know, I can't stop thinking about the party."
You spoke softly, so quietly I almost didn't hear it, but when I did my back tensed, and my heart just stopped. Have you heard that expression – you can hear a pin drop? That's how it was like for me. The parties, both parties, came to mind then. I was on the verge of hysterics.
Maybe you sensed that, because you turned it all around.
"Hannah, I … I like you."
That one admission, that…confession, just halted all my thought processes, all the emotions that raged in me, everything.
And you just went on. Babbling at high speed, "I'm not the best with people, socially awkward, remember? But moments with you always feel special to me – like the time we went onto the roof of the Crestmont or the winter dance or just…just a ton of minor things. Like hanging out at work and school."
You know how I spoke earlier of disbelief? Well, at that moment I definitely didn't believe my own reality. This couldn't be happening to me.
And still you went on, "But that night was something else. Just talking to you, the little jokes we had, everything seemed so…perfect. But maybe it was just me and I – "
"No!" I stood up and practically screamed it, my chair skid back as I did. I could feel all these eyes looking up at me, including that one waitress behind the counter. I felt my face heat up and I hurriedly sat back down. The other customers went back to their drinks but that one girl kept looking at me until you nodded your head at her.
Huh, maybe you know her.
"So, it was okay?"
"More than okay."
It happened then. The moment I said that, you smiled. A big grin that stretched across your face. Just the sight of it shook me to my core. It etched itself into my being. There was a void there and you filled it, Clay. You saved me.
You are the reason why.