It’s 02:12 and I don’t think about you anymore.

Except for when I wake up in the morning to texts that aren’t from you.
And when I go to sleep without anyone wishing me sweet dreams.
How did I live so long without these things?
How do I live without them again?

It’s 02:15 and I don’t think about you anymore.

Except for when I’m upset
and you’re the only voice who can soothe me.
Or when I’m happy
and you’re the only person I want to share it with.
Or when I'm simply bored
and I’m in the mood to get on your nerves.
Who do I talk to now?
Why don't I want to talk to anyone else?

It’s 02:21 and I don’t think about you anymore.

Except for when your favorite song plays
and I blast it as high as my speakers go and pretend you’re here listening with me.
These songs don’t comfort me anymore.
They feel like ringing in my ears and knives in my heart.
Why can't I find it in me to skip them?
When will these songs just be songs again?

It’s 02:24 and I don’t think about you anymore.

Except for every second of every day.
There is always something new I want to tell you
but you don’t care anymore.
I keep these thoughts in a log in my head,
“To tell Her later.”
When is later?
Why do I keep lying to myself and pretending there is a later?

It’s 02:27 and I don’t think about you anymore.

Except for when I fall asleep and dream of you.
No one prepared me for the way you’d infiltrate my psyche.
You’ve lodged yourself deep in my subconscious.
Why won’t you leave?
Why won’t I let you leave?

But it’s 02:30 and I don’t think about you anymore.

I called the suicide hotline today.
My hands shook as I dialed the numbers.
My heart pounded as the automated voice greeted me.
I don't know what i was so scared of.
Millions of people call every day. I'm just another suicidal girl in their phonebook.

I called the suicide hotline today
At 5 am. I hadn’t slept yet. Up all night trying not to hurt myself.
I hung up after pressing call twice.
Maybe if i didn't say my feelings out loud, they wouldn't exist?
Maybe if i kept them locked in there usual box,
I’d continue to live like nothing's wrong.

I called the suicide hotline today
And i was connected with a soft-spoken lady called Ashley.
I talked with my eyes closed, trying to picture her in front of me. I like to believe she greeted me with a comforting smile.
I still curse the first couple minutes of the call that consisted of me just saying “huh?” At all her questions because I couldn’t hear (thanks dad for the horrible ears)

I called the suicide hotline today.
I told ashley that i want to hurt and **** myself.
I told ashley that i wasn't okay.
I told ashley that i think i was losing a best friend.

I said sorry to ashley a lot for everything i did wrong.
For calling about my minuscule problems, for crying, for not being able to hear her, for crying again, for cursing.
She told me that I had no reason to be sorry a lot.
Then i said sorry for being sorry.

I called the suicide hotline today.
A great amount of time was spent with Ashley just listening to me.
And let me just say, speaking freely without worrying about being judged is amazing.
She offered help when i asked or paused and let me cry when i needed to.
She didn't belittle my problems, compare herself to me, or make it about her.
This entire call was about me and **** that felt good.

I called the suicide hotline today.
She gave me tips on how to healthily cope with things,
She informed me how i could get therapists for cheap or low prices,
She encouraged me to talk to friends and family.

I think the most important thing she told me was that it was okay to be selfish sometimes.
I don't think that's a trait I ever learned.
All I ever do is give and give to other people even when I had no spoons left.
Ashley made sure to inform me that that's not okay.
“You need to be selfish sometimes,” She said.
“I don't know how,” I said.

I called the suicide hotline today.
Our conversation lasted forty-five minutes.
I wanted to talk longer just because I enjoyed her company but I kept yawning and she insisted I slept.
And yet, i lie here, writing this and thinking about all we talked about instead of sleeping.

I called the suicide hotline today.
My night was very dark before talking to Ashley.
Although I thanked her multiple times, i don't know if she really knows how thankful I am for her. Because i am.
The difference she made in just forty-five minutes is mindblowing.

I called the suicide hotline today.
My hands are still shaking.
My heart is still pounding.
But i am alive.
And in this moment, I’m okay.

Have you ever almost drowned?

When I was a 4” 6 year old, I tried to go in the 5” side of the pool. Mind you, I couldn't swim. I held on to the side of the pool until I decided it'd be best to push myself away from the edge.
I immediately began drowning.
It was terrifying at first. I quickly started flailing my arms, trying to get myself back to the edge. Why did it seem so far away all of a sudden?
My lungs gasped for air but were met with water, not exactly the next best thing. Let me tell you, breathing in water hurts like a b*tch.
At some point, it stopped hurting though. I don't know if I was close to unconsciousness or if I just accepted my fate for a couple of seconds but after that burning feeling, I felt a moment of bliss.
That was until I touched the bottom of the pool with my feet and my survival instincts kicked in as I pushed myself up to the surface and back to the edge.

I never forgot that feeling of breathing in water.

In class yesterday, I went to answer a question but I couldn't.
My best friend and I got in a fight and I couldn't find it in me to defend myself.
My dog whines and begs for me to do something with him. Anything but sit there.
These moments seem random but they all have one thing in common.
Every single moment was a time when I felt that feeling of breathing water when there was no water in sight. Each time, worse than the last. Each time, the floor is farther and farther away.

Have you ever almost drowned?
It happens to me every single day.

I don’t believe I’ve ever felt true happiness,
Only small moments of joy in a sea of sadness.
I don’t know what I’d do if I ever became truly happy.
Maybe I’d not cry myself to sleep anymore,
Or stop imagining my own death,
But who knows?
Definitely not me.

I don’t believe I’ve ever been not sad,
Not even during the best moments of my life.
Even in times that should’ve been total joy,
I felt overwhelming sadness.
Sad because this moment would end,
Sad because everyone else’s happiness extended past the night.
I was sad about anything I could be sad about
And things I should’ve been happy about.

I don’t believe I’ve ever understood how people can say,
“just be happy”
Trust me,
I ******* would if I ******* could.

But at this point,
I don’t believe I know how to be happy.

A wise woman once said she’d like to be defined by the things she loved.
Not the things she hates or fears or the things that haunt her.
This idea very much stuck to me.

This is my attempt at defining myself by the things I love or the things I find love in.

I love the sound of ocean water hitting the shore.
I have never been more at peace than I am at a beach.
I can freely think, freely breathe.
I can just be free.
I think the ocean is love.

I find love in good morning and good night texts.
They may be meaningless to some,
a nuisance to others,
but to me it’s the purest form of endearment.
I can’t look at a good morning or good night text and not smile.
I think those texts are love.

I love and find love in music.
I would go through hell as long as at the end, there was a good song.
I love to sing my favorite songs at the top of my lungs
and can’t help but tap my finger to my least favorites.
I think music is love.

I love books.
Even with the worst books, I love the lessons they had to offer.
I love the time put into writing it.
I love the time I put into reading it.
I love starting to read a book at 9am and blinking to find out it’s now 9pm.
I think books are love.

It’s so easy to get wrapped up in what I hate,
even easier to get ******* in what I fear,
sometimes I forget love is a thing.
I don’t want to live like that.
I want to continue to love and find love in things.
I am a lover, not a fighter and some may hate that cliche
but you know what, I love it.

I think being a lover is love and that may be redundant but maybe, just maybe, I love that too.