All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
YOU are the REASON for this.
Now what? After all the long nights setting in the back alone and cold by yourself with no one to talk to because you were the 'weird' kid. You were the 'problem' of everybody's life. At least that's how you felt.
Then you take a step back and you get placed in the shoes I was in. Now that you have realized what I went through and how I felt back then. Now you know, now you can truly say you understand, you don't have to lie and pretend every thing is okay anymore.
Now look at you, you are back where you started. Stuck in this place we call the world. What has happened, every one is fighting and nothing seems to be changing for the better.
Last time you stopped to take a reality check you seen the way it looked you seen how it was. Then you had still been the one causing the trouble. It was always someone else's fault you never did anything wrong.
Well that was it. That was the end. Its over. You're gone and you did this to yourself. No one forced you; we blamed it on the untold names that we thought about every day.
I truly miss you; you were my friend; you were the better half of me; you were the one I trusted; the only one I trusted; but then what happened, what happened to the days we spent together; the nights we stayed up crying. They were gone. You're gone.
I will never forget how you left this world. You brought it upon yourself though others drove you toward it. We thought the same feelings and some how I came out of it. I don't know how. No one does. You just had to be the one with the worst half. If I could take the past three years back I would in a heart beat but it happened for a reason
It happened because we felt unloved; we went through this together. And every night I prayed we would come out of it together. But we didn't, you didn't. I am setting here thinking of the night you put the gun to your head.
The night that the razorblade cut the name of the person we hated the most. I even remember the night we gave up. We said we didn't care anymore. We said we felt like know one loved us. And at that point it was probably true. We were drowning in our own pool of blood.
The night we gave up the razorblades we turned away from all the evil things we had done and became a new person was the best night we ever had. Till that one person had come back into the life we never had.
You took your life that night. Right in front of me. I tried to stop you but you said it hurts to bad I took away the weapons and everything that we could use to hurt our selves; yet you found another way.
Every time I see the person you hated and the place you murdered your self I go back to that night when all things were starting to get right again but one little click took it all away.
Your funeral was sad. She didn't even show up. She was the only one that didn't show up. All our 'friends' set there, I at this point am crying my eyes out. Thinking of all the pain and struggles we went through and as I set beside you I could hear your father say I don't understand why my son would do this.
As I looked into his eyes and he seen me crying I showed him the scars on your arms and told him the story of what had happened that night. No one understood. No one could believe that we felt that way because we had hid it so well.
Your father told me if he had ever known you had felt that way he would have got help for us. But I remembered as he told me that; that you didn't want help. We didn't need help; each other were all the help we thought we needed but look at you now.
That night was hard for me to talk to your dad he wanted to know everything not just about the scars; he wanted to know how we hid things so well; I had told him that if he was around more often he would understand and that night; the first time in my life I had seen your father break down in tears.
As he began to blame himself for what you had done; I reassured him it wasn't his fault that there was way too many other things that had happened to make you want to take your life.
I miss you and I think about you all the time. There are times when I begin to cry as I think of you and what a hard year that was. And people don't understand they say oh don't cry; don't hurt; but if they only understood how I had felt watching you hit the ground. Slowly. Painfully.
I guess you sort of helped me out as I seen you die I realized this would happen to me; I had done had the suicide thoughts; I had done planned and attempted but I failed.
When I noticed how it made a difference in life when you died that night I knew I needed to help myself I knew I couldn't let you down because you told me to be strong and not be like you; though I wasn't trying. I had the same feelings and we got into this together. I thought we should have gone out together.
I looked in the mirror as I stabbed it with a knife and said I can't do this. I won't do this. That's when I got help.
I not only got help from counselors and therapist. I got help from you. You are the reason I am who I am today. You helped me want to make a difference in my life. Why? Because I didn't want to hurt anymore. I wanted the pain to go away.
I still have the last scar I made that night as you died.
It's still on my right arm right below my wrist. I knew something had to be done so I stopped. Your dad helped me. He took the razorblades. All of them. Even the ones we had hidden. Then he told me if I wanted to change I had to be willing to help myself. And I had to be willing to make a commitment to change.
So I did. And look at me now. I'm content with myself. And most of all I do not allow myself to cut anymore.
Thank You. You really helped your family; but most of all, you helped me.