I wasn't scared; I was ready.
I met this girl, and in her presence alone, I felt new.
Like I didn't have to hurt anymore.
Like she would take away the pain.
The second I looked at her, I saw freedom.
Like everything bad in my world suddenly didn't eat me alive.
She helped me understand that it was okay to smile,
that I don't have to fight anymore.
She kissed my broken heart, and within that I would die trying to kiss hers. She was an angel, that was sent down to fill in the places of everyone I lost. And that was enough, she was enough.
She taught me to stop reliving the hurt he gave my family,
she showed me how to let go of what he did, and heal.
Every second I felt like giving up,
she was there cheering me on to just get through the day, every day.
But as she tried so hard to help me, she became blind to everything I helped her through. Her mind was blackened to this thought that all she did was take care of me, when in reality she knew all she wanted from me was to save her. But that's the thing, you can die trying, but you can't save everyone.
It was time. It was time to let go, of the pain, of the fear, of the sadness.
I wasn't scared; I was ready.
Within the handful of pills I swallowed down and begging for it to be over. Floor filled with blood, vision blurry.
I told her I loved her, but this one wasn't worth saving.
Within five minutes she was holding me, talking me through the fading. Promising me that she won't let go, that she won't leave me.
I puked up the suicide, and laid next to her for hours.
Asking her why she saved me, why she took away my goodbyes.
She kissed me and said it was because I fought my battle and it was time to feel victory.
But that's the thing, she was blind to the fact that this whole time,
through all of this suffering, she was my victory.
She was the one good thing my life held.
The next day, I woke up, in sadness hoping I wouldn't.
How did I survive the hell I put myself through?
Why was I given a second chance?
I cried for hours, till the point I couldn't breath, see, or feel anything.
I went numb.
I blacked out.
I saw the light we we're told about as kids.
I had the panic attack that held my life by a thread.
And as my eyes began to shut,
and I started to let go,
my mother grabbed me.
And in that moment, I never thought hearing
"I'm here, you're okay"
could save my life.
But see she broke her promise.
I haven't seen her since.
And through this all,
losing her hurt more than my own death.
But she's happy, and I guess I'm okay.
Don't take this the wrong way,
I love that you're happy,
But I wish you would have stayed.