Six years ago today, she shot herself.
I miss her. Every single day of my life. Still - everything reminds me of her. She was my best friend. My sister. I can't replace her, and I still haven't.
For six years I blamed myself. If I'd have held on a little longer, she'd still be here. If I'd have called the next morning and checked up on her, she'd still be here. If I'd done anything, she'd still be here. I was sick with it. It shaped every life decision I'd made since. Some good, some horrible. Losing her had devastated me, and I'd let my guilt steer my course in life.
I always remember her birthday. March 18th. I always think of her, every day. This morning, on my way to work - I thought of her again. And I realized - somewhere along the way, I'd let go of the guilt but held on to her memory. I don't know when, but at some point I'd forgiven her for doing it. And I'd forgiven myself.
It still hurts. But it's a pain I can live with now.
2 comments:
Almost four years ago(2 weeks before father's day) my dad's wife left him, he lost his job and was evicted. He drove to my place (18 hours straight) with everything he had left in his pick-up.
He stayed with me for 4 days, visited my mom and brother and then drove off one afternoon while I was taking a nap and shot himself.
I knew he was really depressed, I knew he had a gun, I knew he had thought about killing himself and I still did stupid shit like ask him to go outside to smoke, left his stuff in boxes instead of unpacking him, left him alone when I didn't have to, all of which I know made him feel less welcome than he really was.
I know I could have kept him alive if I helped him hang on for a little while longer.
fucking sucks everyday.
this is the first time I've actually 'said' any of this to anyone.
{{{{{you}}}}}
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