All I can do is thank you for making me the person I am today. Thank you for walking into my laugh and staying in it to this day. Without you, I wouldn't be who I am today; I wouldn't be experienced with serious situations and I wouldn't know how to handle them the right way.
We're a handful. We laugh, we cry, we fight, we make up, and most of all, we learn. We learned about one another. We learned how to handle the situations presented to us.
It hurt when you told me you didn't want to continue on with life. I remember feeling the tears sting my eyes, blurring my vision and making my heart raise so fast I thought it got caught in my throat as I stared at you with wavering lips and a voice to match. I could barely speak; I felt like my world was crashing down. I felt like I was losing something special.
And I was - you.
I didn't want you to go. I didn't want you to leave my side and keep me wondering about your condition. I know you didn't mean to hurt me; you were hurting yourself. You were suffering in silence, shielding yourself off to the rest of the world in fear of judgment and harassment.
I understand that. I have felt judgment for many reasons and all of them hurt.
Pain is no joke - physical, mental, or emotional. It all kills and it feels like a knife through your heart. At least, it did for me.
Class was always the best when you were there. Sure, you were different, but that didn't matter to me; I'm different, too, in more ways than one, and being weird or strange is something we were proud of.
I remember sitting beside you. When were first found out we would be in the same class, we were ecstatic, and when you saw me sitting in a chair by myself on the opposite side of the room of everyone else, you rushed over to sit beside me. I was so happy to see you with me and although everyone else gave us scoffs and scowls, we turned away and began chatting.
Then I remember you suddenly disappearing without a trace. I felt betrayed, if I'm being honest. I felt like you purposely left me behind. I thought I did something wrong that I hadn't known and that's why you were long there. When I found out differently, I cried. I laid down in bed that night and cried my eyes out for you. The news was too much to handle and I never expected it to happen.
I remember you saying you didn't want to live, but I thought I had helped you. I thought your smiles and laughs meant you were doing okay. I thought those inside jokes of ours meant you weren't going to do anything.
It did for a little while, but then the pain and the torture of everything going on around you and inside of your head made you hit your breaking point.
At that point, I didn't understand why you did it. I was too naive to understand it.
You went away for a while. I heard rumors of you trying to harm yourself and trying to give away the life God gave you. Selfishly, I felt personally attacked by this; wasn't I good enough for you to stay? Wasn't I the reason you hadn't tried for so long?
It took me a while of you being gone for me to realize it wasn't me who did anything wrong. I had tried to help you through everything. I talked to you and brought you in little treats to cheer you up. I cried with you when you felt like breaking down and I gave you plenty of hugs whenever I saw you, even if you didn't want one. You knew I was a hugger and you'd laugh each time I forced you into my embrace. I didn't want to let go because I felt like I was the glue pushing your pieces all back together.
You had a lot going on. You had been pushed around and thrown about like you were a piece of meat. You were forced to do things you didn't want to and were told to be someone you weren't. You were unhappy, but they didn't care. They pushed all of your buttons and then complained when you fought back. You tried so hard not to give up because of me. You tried so hard to fight back against them, to keep them from pushing you to the brink of insanity, but you couldn't hold them back. You couldn't keep them away and I don't blame you. What they did to you was horrendous; I would have cracked much earlier. You're a strong person and you endured so much; you just hit a breaking point. Everyone does at some point.
I remember seeing the scars when you returned. I remember holding you close and telling you I was there for you. I remember telling you to come to me instead of doing that anymore; you could trust in me, always, and I would always listen. I wouldn't tell anyone about our conversations unless I found something odd - that's when I would tell my parents and they would give me advice on how to help you. I had resources who would keep it between us and you trusted them, too.
You were trying so hard not to relapse and I respected that. I tried to help you get to a better headspace, to help you get to a btter place in general. I wanted to see you improve. I wanted to see you shine like the star I knew you could be.
The following school year came. We kept in contact through social media throughout the summer. You were different, but in a good way. You seemed happier. You had breakups and fights like a lot of teenagers do, but then you found this boy. He seemed good to you and you said you loved him. As long as he treated you right, I told you I approved.
And that's when I realized that I had helped you. I had helped you survive. I had helped you to realize your worth and a piece of me hasn't been the same since then. I had never been put in such a serious situation before where I would have to help someone to live.
I'm glad I could help you, my friend. And thank you for still being my side to this day to help me on my worst days and to make me smile on my best. I found a forever friend in you and despite what anyone else thinks, you are one of my friends and I will cherish you.
I'm proud of you and how far you have come. And I hope together, we can succeed in so many ways.