It’s time to say goodbye

Hello my friend. It’s been a long time since we have talked, and will continue to be. For the long part of a short while I got to know you, not though my own will, nor yours, it just sort of happed I suppose. I don’t remember how; I don’t remember much these days I’m afraid.

I remember you, though. 

I remember that you were always too hot in one room, and always told me to open the window first and foremost upon entering. That room always made you tired, as it did the rest of us. The more I think about it, however, I believe it wasn’t for the same reason as everyone else. 

I remember your friends.

Once before class had stared, you were with your other friends. I made the mistake of giving you an energy drink, immediately one of them grabbed it and stared reading the back of the can, informing you not to drink it, as it is really bad for you. You assured them you wouldn’t, and told them not to worry. 

The moment they left you put it in your bag and walked over to me, thanking me and drinking it outside with a cigarette. 

To this day I wonder if they knew that side of you, or the you that you wanted them to see you be, to me- you were a badass. Always will be. Dressed in a style that said “I look cool, I know. It’s effortless.” I always loved your piercings. 

I loved how we would discuss our mental health in a class like it was nothing; like our issues were just lists on a restaurant menu, going back and forth between them. 

“Have you had the insomnia yet?”

“Had it? I’ve never gotten rid of it.”

“Did you try the exercises your therapist gave you?”

“Fuck sake Rachel you know as well as I do that they don’t work.”

Yeah, that’s how it went. I miss you, you know? I miss how we would talk about anything and everything. 

I loved how you wanted to talk to me, not just because you were told at the start of the year to sit beside me because I was the only one at the table. 

It was the only time we talked to each other face to face- in class or an absent hallway. In a social way, we were completely opposite. You were genuinely popular, you went out to party’s and stayed with friends. I, on the other hand, was not. No matter how many times you’d invite me I would always turn it down. Looking back I don’t know why, maybe my anxiety didn’t allow me to do such bold things. Going outside in lunch breaks was hard enough.

You helped me so much- in so many ways. When the two biggest assholes of the school found out a secret of mine, that I was gay, I had a breakdown. Once they knew, surely they would tell everyone. 

You, however, remained calm. All you said was “I’ll talk to them.” 

I took the next day off, terrified for the tournament I would no doubt receive. 

On a Wednesday morning I walked to school, holing back the feeling to be sick. When I arrived... it was like any other day. You had talked to them indeed, to this day I have no idea how you did it, but I am very thankful. 

We would text a lot, every night. I counted that as talking because I kind of was, right?  We would stay up until 4 in the morning most of the time. To this day it haunts me.

The one night I didn’t keep talking, was the night we should have. The 31st of December. We stayed up talking until 3am on the 1st, but we didn’t notice. The last thing I said to you was “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

Tomorrow never came. I had found out by asking one of your friends where you were. I cried all night, sometimes I still cry. It was raining that night, and the more I cried the heavier it seemed to get. As if you were crying with me. When I stopped crying from exhaustion, so did the rain. To this day I think of you when the weather is shit- that’s most of the time. 

On the day of your funeral, there were too many people to count. Despite this, it was silent. The only noise was your mother, sobbing loudly, uncontrollably. When I walked in, there you were. Your coffin covered in flowers. Rather than a photograph of you, it was a drawing that you had done of yourself. You were always so talented with art. 

While I had never been to a religious building before, I’d never want to go again.  There’s a heavy feeling in every single one that I can’t seem to shake. Since the day you left I’ve had a lump in my throat I can’t get rid of.

The musician sang Coldplay’s Yellow;

As everyone was saying goodbye, sharing and remembering their good times with you, the building was full of love, and more people than the benches could hold. We would laugh and cry, brought together by loss. It showed me how much you were loved- how much you are still loved.

For the large part of a long while after that I thought about joining you. I planned and prepared. Then I thought of my funeral while writing the letter,some family would be there with one or two friends. More importantly, my sisters would be there. Your little brother was in ruins, I couldn’t let my sisters go through that in the future. Maybe they wouldn’t miss me- but I had to care for them. 

It will be a long time until I get to see you again, if my life goes to plan. However I know you’ll be here if I need you, as always. Wherever you are, I hope you are happy now. I hope you are at peace. 

Thank you for everything you have done with me and for me, thank you for the memories and thank you for opening my eyes. 

Goodbye my friend.