Vic Chessnut - Flirted With You All My Life: youtube.com/watch?v=V4Z-kjr4BLs
There was a period in my life where I was so depressed that I considered suicide. There isn't much to get into there, it wasn't one thing or another merely the basic difficulties of being a teenager, living in a small town. I often felt paralyzed and out of focus, building toward something good but unable to see it ahead, not even sure if it was there. It's strange to look back on that time and see myself shrouded by this darkness that I couldn't explain, unable to reach out to anyone for help, spiraling thoughts of terrible being. I think the only thing that kept me alive was the fact that my death would have killed my family in turn.
I had a friend who killed himself when he was fifteen, I was sixteen. I didn't know him so well but I admired him immensely. I was just on the verge of stepping out of my depression when I met him proper, was still somewhat shunned and made the fool by those I considered friends and he said friendly words toward me. I felt comfortable talking to him, called him a brother, he was charming and handsome and funny. Then, as briefly as we had spoken he disappeared. He stopped going to school because of an injury and I saw him just a handful of times again before he put a gun in his mouth. His death was shocking and I didn't know how to understand it, I remember holding onto it like gossip at first because the concept was so foreign and immense I couldn't grasp. It wasn't felt truly until I saw his body, shook his mothers hand and she told me he'd mentioned my name before, kindly.
The most difficult thing in life for me at this point is to show those I love how much I truly love them. I'm so full of gratitude and honour for those I've so far met and who have stated kind words of me, to me, that the feeling sometimes rises to burst and I want to lie myself prostrate at their feet. Even those I meet in passing, those beautiful faces that fill my dreams and pass into their own forms of beauty. It's too much.
And the eyes that regard with familiarity are the hardest to bare, lovingly.
No comments:
Post a Comment