Written By G.
A cup of coffee in one hand, a ciggie in the other and total silence all over the place. Not one of those silences that come before a storm; no, this one feels peaceful and nice. I feel calm and relaxed and it’s been a while since I’ve felt that way. Six months and twenty eight days to be precise. So, for the first time in that long I feel content with who I am, where I am and what I am doing. For the first time today, I took a step forward, towards a new life and away from the past.
It’s not that I’ve forgotten about you; your absence still hurts, but I am learning to live with it I guess. I thought I would never be able to get back on my feet. If you asked me a week ago, I’d tell you I am a mess; I might have even broken down and cried.
It’s funny how things change from one moment to the other. It’s funny how certain people can change your perspectives in life; interesting yet funny. I mean there were a million people who tried to approach me, but no matter how hard they tried I would just tell them to piss off and walk away. “My life, my rules”, I’d say and I would go on being my self-destructive self.
All of my friends were long gone and I had left no cracks in the door for my family to come closer. I wanted to be in pain, I wanted to punish myself for what happened to you. I wanted to act insane and be mad at the world for no obvious reason. I was here and you weren’t and that was enough to bring out my dark side; the hateful, selfish, nasty bitch.
Everyone was afraid of me and I was enjoying it, until this poisonous attitude was all I was left with, but there was no one around to throw my venom at; no one but me, that is. That was the day I decided to put an end to it all, the wrong way. I sharpened a kitchen knife and started hurting myself, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t – didn’t want to, rather – cut deep.
And there it was; the lowest and most shameful moment of my life. Me, trying to kill myself? What had happened to me? I was so full of life, so vibrant, so eager to see the future. I kept staring at the wounds on my arms. I hadn’t cut deep enough to cause a fatal accident, but those were still deep cuts to cause an infection.
That’s when I met him. He saw me at the drugstore. He studied my posture, my face, he could see I was pretty shaken and as I lifted my hand to grab an antiseptic bottle and band aids he saw them; the fresh scars, still bloody and messy.
He came right after me. I could hear his steps, but the last thing I needed was to get lectured by a total stranger, so I started walking faster but he followed my lead, until I heard him shouting “Hey! Hold it. You forgot your change!”. That’s how he got me to turn around.
He had to trick me, to save me. He didn’t say much, just six words “Don’t do anything stupid again, okay”? I nodded, he gave me a piece of paper and he left. No lecture, no overreacting.
I ran the rest of the way home, I closed the door behind me and I sobbed. Everything I held inside rushed out; and then nothing but quiet. I slept the rest of the day and woke up in the middle of the night. I remembered the piece of paper he’d given me. It read “Even strangers care, Dan”.
I decided I needed help that day and I asked for it. It helped me accept the facts and learn to live by them, but the emotional pain was still there; always present, no matter what I did.
Today was the first day I felt like going out of the house; nothing much, just a coffee with my sister. And there he was. I’d spotted him the moment I walked in and you he was already smiling and heading our way. “Hi, I’m Dan”, he said. “And I’m gonna be okay”, I replied.
And just like that I decided to turn the page in the book of my life.
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