It's not real. It's the day after, I'm sitting here and I just can't believe it happened. The only problem is, it did happen. We all read about it in newspapers, talk about it, think about doing it, but that's one thing. It's something else entirely when you're sitting there waiting for the ambulance to come, hoping he didn't take too many pills.
When he went to the bathroom, I knew what he was going to do. We had been talking, all of us telling him how much we care. He promised me to wait, at least one more day, taking the days as they came. He promised he'd tell me. Hell, I couldn't have forced him not to go to the bathroom either.
Sitting in an ambulance looking at my friend who just tried to commit suicide at 2 am after another friend's birthday is the most surreal experience I've ever had. I had one thought; Him. I didn't feel sad, or angry, or anything. I just wanted him to be fine. That was everything. I didn't cry and say "It's gonna be okay" on a loop. I just made sure he got water when he was thirsty, that he could lean on my shoulder when he got tired, and that he wasn't alone.
It hit me full on the moment I walked into my own apartment. 10 past 5 in the morning, numb and tired. My friend tried to kill himself. My friend could have been gone by now. Oh fuck. I broke down completely, on the phone with my mother. I started sobbing harder than I thought possible. I was devastated.
In fact he didn't die. I do realise it wasn't a lethal dose, and that it was more a cry for help than anything else. But I still care, I'm still sad and afraid, and in a far away small selfish place, I must admit I'm a bit sad that the fact that I care didn't matter enough to him. I know it's selfish, but it's true. No one wants to find out that their love doesn't matter, even when it's the kind of love that doesn't lead to sex.
I still don't know what to do, or if I can do anything. I still feel this mix of numbness and despair, and this sort of lack of presence. I truly and fully wish for some clues on what to do, but there are no one there to give them to me. I can only hope, and for just this once, maybe even pray. I am aware that is an odd thing for an atheist to say, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
-Me
When he went to the bathroom, I knew what he was going to do. We had been talking, all of us telling him how much we care. He promised me to wait, at least one more day, taking the days as they came. He promised he'd tell me. Hell, I couldn't have forced him not to go to the bathroom either.
Sitting in an ambulance looking at my friend who just tried to commit suicide at 2 am after another friend's birthday is the most surreal experience I've ever had. I had one thought; Him. I didn't feel sad, or angry, or anything. I just wanted him to be fine. That was everything. I didn't cry and say "It's gonna be okay" on a loop. I just made sure he got water when he was thirsty, that he could lean on my shoulder when he got tired, and that he wasn't alone.
It hit me full on the moment I walked into my own apartment. 10 past 5 in the morning, numb and tired. My friend tried to kill himself. My friend could have been gone by now. Oh fuck. I broke down completely, on the phone with my mother. I started sobbing harder than I thought possible. I was devastated.
In fact he didn't die. I do realise it wasn't a lethal dose, and that it was more a cry for help than anything else. But I still care, I'm still sad and afraid, and in a far away small selfish place, I must admit I'm a bit sad that the fact that I care didn't matter enough to him. I know it's selfish, but it's true. No one wants to find out that their love doesn't matter, even when it's the kind of love that doesn't lead to sex.
I still don't know what to do, or if I can do anything. I still feel this mix of numbness and despair, and this sort of lack of presence. I truly and fully wish for some clues on what to do, but there are no one there to give them to me. I can only hope, and for just this once, maybe even pray. I am aware that is an odd thing for an atheist to say, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
-Me