It’s so awful to look out over the valley and feel sick, because I am actually starting to realize that you’re gone, and you’re never coming back.
I adore this picture of the two of us. I never can understand why. It’s the ridiculous looking picture that you always seem to cherish the most, and I suppose that’s why I like it so much. Yes, anonymous me is allowing you to see a bit of my face. I’m not very good at keeping my appearance a secret.
There are so many annoying things happening around me right now, I want to scream. The toddler screaming in the waiting room is getting on my nerves as he’s yelling “EWH!” at the teeth on the slideshow. He’s adorable though, which makes me feel bad, honestly, but that always makes me question why parents can’t find better control over their children. Then again, what do I know, I’m only fifteen.
We all travel in wandering directions. Each of us has our own path set out in front of us to follow. We you get into a car, people, in most circumstances, have a destination. Each morning, millions of people commute to work, school, appointments, etc. Very rarely do you cross the path of an unknown person more than once. But on the rare occasion that you do, how much attention do you pay to that? Very little.
My sister has an orthodontist appointment this morning, and in light of my inevitable tears this morning after R*****’s funeral, school wasn’t particularly in the cards for me, so I am traveling with my sister and grandfather to her appointment in West Reading. My grandfather will drop us both at school after we stop at McDonald’s for breakfast. While much of this information seems unnecessary, it is relevant to where I’m going with this.
As we pulled off of my street towards the main road, a truck had come over the mountain, which is a popular back route in my area. I didn’t take notice to the fact that we were traveling in the same direction as this truck. As we were driving down the highway, I think it was Route 73 onto the bypass, I notice this same truck in front of us, driving rather frantically. I guess this story doesn’t have much of a moral, but I took great interest in this. It’s funny how the same people cross paths accidentally, even if it’s in a no-contact situation. I suppose this could also relate to R*****. As I travelled in my own wandering direction this morning, we passed the funeral home where R*****s body is lying right now. I was half compelled to say “Hi R*****”, but I didn’t. I suppose I didn’t want to scare my family.
Instead, I look up at the sky today, and say hello. Because I love him, and I miss him, and I just want to say hello.
It’s funny really, how long ago it was that I could call myself your girlfriend.
You guys have to understand, this was my first real relationship. Sure, I was only a freshman in high school, but this puppy love consumed my life, and I was so devastated when he broke my heart. I never stopped to realize that their was a bigger and better love out there waiting for me. But this is not what I’m writing about, I just thought some previous background may be necessary.
As I mentioned before, this ex-boyfriend of mine was best friends with the boy from my school that hung himself a few days ago. Through my relationship with my boyfriend, I had gotten to know this boy pretty well, and this loss is tragic. Regardless, right now I am concerned more so about my ex-boyfriend. I’ve haven’t ever watched him cope with death, because the death of another student from out school that affected our lives was not at the time when him and I were together, but after a year of being his love and his best friend, I learned a great deal of things about him. I know his moods, his body language, his facial expressions; all of that stuff. Today was our first day back to school since this boy’s death. I wasn’t sure if I would be seeing my ex in school today… In all honesty, I hate referring to him as that, because yes, that is what relation he has to me, but he is also a best friend to me, to this very day and someone who I care very deeply for, keep that in mind. Anyway, like I said, I wasn’t sure if I would see him in school today, though I was desperately hoping I would, because I was very worried about him, since I had not heard from him since the night we talked on the phone after receiving news of this boy’s death. After entering the school this morning and breaking down into a fit of tears, I thought their was no possible way that he could make it through today if all I had done was walk through the door and began to cry. But much to the surprise of many people, not only was my ex in school today, but so was this boy’s girlfriend, who had found him hanging. This sent shock waves through the school, trying to watch her cope with this pain. After seeing her, I knew my ex was in school. We have fourth period together, and the moment I walked into the room, I saw him being hugged by two other boys in our class. Right after I had walked to my desk to put down my stuff, my ex and I were in each other’s arms. I haven’t hugged him since two months after we broke up seven months ago. Even that was a long time ago. Both of us burst into tears. And you know what? Even though it was clear that he had more right to suffer than I had he asked me, “Are you okay?” He asked me. And it was in that moment that I swore I loved him once again. I remembered every reason I ever had to love him solely because he asked me when I should have been asking him. There is no other person like him. I will love him always, despite anything that has happened between him and I in the past. There are no more cards left for either of us to play in the terms of a relationship, but we will forever love each other deeply, and I genuinely, sincerely mean that. But even now, so much time has past. i know more of who he used to be, and less of who he is now. I do understand him at times where others do not, because I know the innocent childlike side of him, but the shield he has put up now is too tough to break. I will forever love him, but it’s that weaker, innocent side of him that I treasure. The other, more predominant side is unfamiliar. And that is a territory I will not attempt to enter. As if he would let me in anyway. As if I know him.
Your hurtful words broke my heart
Saturday you left
We will never say, “I’m sorry”
Leaving words I can’t take back
R*****, I still can’t believe you’re gone. It doesn’t feel real. Even after I read the article in the paper today, I still can’t come to sense with the fact that you’re not alive anymore. Everyone says it will hit me tomorrow in school. They’re probably right. But what if it doesn’t? What if I remain numb? Then again, this whole situation has been centered around what ifs. I just wish someone could have helped you. You had the brightest future in front of you and now I can’t even come to sense with the fact that you hung yourself. Every time I try to picture you alive, well, and happy, I picture you hanging in your bathroom instead. It’s awful and I can’t get it out of me head. R*****, I know you’re sorry, I know you are, I am too, I just wish I could have told you. I wish you could have told me. I wish I would have told you how special you are before you left. Though, I know if we would have made up, we would never talk like we used to. I just wish I could hear you tell me that I’m beautiful, or watch your face awkwardly light up as I pass your locker in the morning yelling “Perkisaur!”, just to make you smile. That luminous, absolutely beautiful smile. You were so haunted. I still can’t believe you’re gone. Come back, please. We need you.
It troubles me greatly when I become excited for my boyfriend to spend the night with me. He can give me the comfort that not a single other person in this world. Then, his mother always says no. There is no harm. What would be wrong with that? I’m curious, honestly, what would be wrong with him sleeping at my house. My mom has never said no. She trusts us. Then, in result of her no, I become exceedingly angry with my boyfriend. It’s not his fault, and I know this. I really do know this. But he is the one who got my hopes up in the first place. Not to mention, the whole point of him being here today was to comfort me. He has probably spent at least 60% of his time with my sister instead. Don’t get me wrong, I love that he has this connection with her that none of my other boyfriends have had, so I try not to complain, but I just wish it could be him and I. And I wish his mother would start treating him like he’s actually 17, instead of 7.
I’ve never actually been one to write poetry. Actually, I am God awful at writing poetry. On Friday, I was given an assignment to write four different pieces that are to be presented to the class on Tuesday upon our return to school from the long weekend. I’ve been dreading sitting down to write these poems for class. The presentation is not that much of an issue: I’m not fearful of my class, but I can never organize words correctly. I write very freely, and any concept I create in my head finds a difficult time creating structure. As I sit here now, writing my first entry onto this blog, I stare at the picture I am entering in my writing as well. To the far right is my ex-boyfriend. We were together for almost a year, and while that time spent together was rough, we loved each other endlessly and to this day, care very much for each other. The other two boys in this picture are his best friends. The one sitting in the middle is a very talented drummer, who my ex is in a band with. The one farthest to the left commit suicide yesterday morning. Three days ago, this boy, who I have been friends with since the start of my freshman year, said some very mean things to me and many other girls in our school, all of which were his friends. He lashed out non-intentionally. I was aware of many problems that he had going through his head, because in a small school like ours, no one has a private life. We’re like one big family, where no one has business of their own. These words he had said hurt me to the point where I broke down crying in school, something a girl like me does not do. After being approached by a counselor, I was forced to admit the things he had said to me. I was so angry at him for what he had said to me that day during lunch, the last words I ever said to him were “You’re such a fucking dick.” As the school began to investigate the bullying incident, they came to the conclusion that he had other issues and no kind of discipline would teach him a lesson. No one should have been trying to teach him a lesson, but no one knew this, because he would talk to no one enough to get help from his suicidal thoughts. I became very angry with my school for not taking any actions against the things he had said, but while the things he said were mean, I still found his smile to be radiant and his smart Alec comments to amuse me even in my anger. As I left school Friday, I passed his locker and was filled with rage towards him for the things he had said, and I recall very clearly squeezing the hand of my current boyfriend to suppress any anger that was inside. I never would have thought that would be the last time I would see him. He hung himself in his bathroom the following morning, somewhere between nine and ten o’clock. I received a phone call from my best friend around 7:30 that night, informing me of his death. As nearly an hour of collapsing, hyperventilating, and screaming at the top of my lungs, I made this status update on Facebook: “When I met you last year, you were this crazy kid always sending me pictures of your pottery and showing me new kinds of music I had never heard. In this past week, a lot of thing happened between the two of us that shouldn’t have, and I really wish it wouldn’t have ended the way it did. R*****, I’m so sorry. I wish I could take this back. Thank you for every smile and every laugh. Despite anything that has occurred this week, I love you, and I’m sorry ♥”. I was educated later that night by my ex-boyfriend that this boy had the intentions of apologizing to me when we returned to school on Tuesday. I realize now that he had told my ex this because he knew that my ex would tell me. He wanted me to know that he was sorry. I hope he knows that I am too, and I love him. Now, I reminisce behind old Facebook chats, text messages, and recordings of his voice. I still cannot believe that he’s gone.
Robert, I am forever grateful for all of the lives you have touched. I hope you know how many people love you. While I would assume you began to regret your decision in the very last moments when it was too late, I know you are at peace now. You will be missed by so many people. There will be no normal day in school from now through the rest of the year. The hardest part is seeing a picture of your beautiful face and picturing it distorted by lack of oxygen or your neck sliced and strangulated from your all too devastating demise. I will always cherish those first Facebook messages where you constantly told me how beautiful I am. Even moment I ever spent with you was a special one, and I really hope you know how much I love you. I love you and your pottery, your alternative music, your death metal, and your “scientical shit”. Everything about you. You were one of the most beautiful people in the world. I wish someone could have helped you. Every single one of your friends feel guilty because we all wish that someone would have been us.
Rest Easy, RJP. I love you so much.