I saw a picture of you today.
We were sitting outside your therapists office.
I wish the me taking the picture knew how bad it really was.
I thought you were mostly fine.
Instead you were just pretending.
I remember hearing that I had missed you.
You came to the weekly meeting.
It just happened to be the one I missed.
You would never return.
The selfish side of me wishes you had told me you were back.
The wishful side thinks I could have stopped it.
The truthful side knows you didn’t seek anyone out for a reason.
You said good bye to those who crossed your path, not everyone who mattered.
I wish I could call you.
I’d tell you I made it to law school.
I’d tell you I have no idea how to date.
I’d tell you I love you.
I used to be uncomfortable with those words.
I didn’t say them to anyone, even long-time friends.
I’ve overcome that now.
I love you, I miss you.
Your mom reaches out to me periodically.
I think she thinks I was the last person to have a real connection.
Or maybe that my success reflects what yours would have been.
I still don’t know how to talk to her.
I think it’s my fault.
I know it’s not.
I want to blame someone.
I know there is no one to blame.
Your death was the last straw.
I can’t talk to God anymore.
He let you suffer, he placed me into your path,
And I couldn’t stop it.
It’s not your fault though,
He and I have always been on shaky ground.
With so much bad,
It’s hard to see Him.
He might be there,
But if he is,
He lets us chose our paths.
I hope wherever you are,
I hope the pain stopped,
I hope you found peace.
I miss you,
I love you,
I remember you.
It’s been two years since my best friend committed suicide. I had started this blog with her. I stopped posting somewhere in the past year. Between missing her and the stress of law school, it just slipped through the cracks. Some person randomly followed me a week ago. I remembered how much I like posting. And then I saw a picture of her. Just a girl playing a silly game in a therapists office. And it all came rushing back. The photo kept reappearing throughout the day. I almost sent a message to her mom, but it sounded like I wanted her to make me feel better. I’ve never wanted that from her, I’ve wanted to make her feel better even if I can’t fix it. So I couldn’t send it. Then I remembered posting. So here’s my poem. I don’t think it really is one until about halfway through, but I’m rusty. All this legal writing has me screwed up. Hopefully this is the start of something old. 🙂
P.S. I’m totally writing this while sitting in my car outside my apartment complex. I’m such a weirdo.