When I walked away from you four years ago, I didn’t take a second glance. We didn’t speak. I didn’t even think about you, not once. Anytime you came up in conversation, it was just through passing. Nothing to really linger on, discuss or talk about.
Anytime I feel like my life starts to get too normal, something jumps out at me, and I never thought that it would have anything to do with you. When I saw that I had a new Facebook message from somebody I didn’t even know, I didn’t think it would have to do with the boy that I broke up with so long ago.
I guess it’s stupid of me to try to blame myself for something that obviously has nothing to do with me, but a tiny part of me does. Knowing everything that I learned about you during our year together, I feel like there were signs of sadness and loneliness, but I didn’t think any of it was suicidal. Not until now at least. We were happy until we weren’t anymore, and there’s no way for me to know how your life turned out after me.
I always thought that the people who commit suicide were selfish, and even though you’re not here anymore, I still think you’re selfish. Why would you do that to yourself? What pushed you over the edge and made you think you could end your life like that? Didn’t you think about your family? How is your mom going to explain this to your precious little sister who looked up to you like you were just a step down from God Himself?
Four years I went without thinking about you, and now I’m angry with you for being more selfish than I was back then, but I’m also sad that you were so unhappy that you felt like you needed to leave this earth the way that you did. I hope you find peace wherever you end up and know that people are thinking about you.