I thought about him today. The one who talked to me. He was one of the few in school who would. No one really liked me. I didn’t fit into the picture perfect world they’d constructed about themselves. So why should they. But he did. Not often but even that little was enough to make me feel a part of this cold, forsaken world. Gave me just a little solace. He had a happy smile. Or so I thought. He made me laugh just watching him. But his laughter was just a facade. It was cut short the morning of 9th grade. I’d never hear that laughter again. I saw him a few days before that. He seemed so….content. But it was a lie. He was hurting inside. I think perhaps I knew that but I didn’t want to see it. It was more of a feeling. I knew his sorrow cause I had the same with in me. That sorrow that beats with-in my breast, pounding with every heart beat, shivering through my body. But… I didn’t recognize it for what it was.

I thought of Him today. Why did I think of him today? I remembered the suicide assembly in 11th grade. His father came in and spoke. At first I didn’t know it was his father. It’d been along time since I’d thought of him so I didn’t recognize his name. He started to speak of a son. His son. I didn’t know He was his Son. He spoke of how happy he’d seemed. How kind and gentle he was. He was always so nice. Laughing and joking. But inside he was screaming. He spoke of the day he came home. The morning of the first day of 9th grade. I remember that day. We were told he had died. I remember my heart aching. But I didn’t tell anyone. How could I? Who would’ve understood? No one. He spoke of seeing his son lying on the ground. He had tears in his eyes. I couldn’t see them. But I felt them. How couldn’t he. I had tears in my eyes. His son had shot Himself in the head. He passed around a picture then. It was His picture. I cried. The tears just fell before I could stop them. In my head I was screaming, “Why!!!? Why do I have to remember him again!?! Its His face!!! Why did he have to Go!!?!!”. I cried for a long time. No one understood though. They didn’t understand my tears. His father spoke of the note he left. Saying He was sorry, He loved them. In a way He blamed them. And to leave a pack of smokes in His club house. He’d have one later. His note was written as if he’d come back. He’ll never come back. I cried even more. When we left the assembly I spoke with His father. Said I knew Him and How I’d liked him alot. Then I left. I never did get to go to his funeral.

I thought of him today. Why do I feel like my heart is being ripped apart by fire and razors? I got off work today and I felt so sad. The sorrow hurts so much. Why wont it stop hurting? People say physical pain is the worst kind of pain….They’re wrong. I cried again today. My heart pounds with sorrow. It hurts, like a vise is gripping and crushing it. How I hate this world. And yet…. I don’t want to leave. Not just yet. His face came to mind. It was so hazy, like a bad picture film. Im forgetting. I hate myself. I always forget. I hate forgetting. His face brings such saddness. But I really did like him. Why couldn’t I go to? I know why, its because I’m a coward. Everyone thinks they know what true pain is. The Bastards!!! They think getting dumped is painful but they’re dating again the next day. They think getting grounded is the end of the world, but they’re shopping and maxing out credit cards a few days later. Damnit It!!! You Bastards. I would love to have them in my shoes, to feel my sorrow, my hate, my wounded heart. Just for one day. How I hate them. They know nothing.

I hought of Him today as I sat here wanting to die. I can’t go yet. I’m still such a coward. How I hate this life. And yet the bittersweet taste of it lingers in my soul. I don’t want to go yet. That sliver of hope just wont go away.

I tought of Him today…and I wanted to die. But not yet. I think I’ll stay awhile longer. I miss Him. I didn’t know Him well but I miss His smile. That smile that hid such pain. I really did love His smile.

Blessed Be

~Lana