I'm Sorry...?

I gave you everything. And I didn’t even know you. I talked to you for hours on end, my phone vibrating constantly. I was reluctant to give you my number. I was nervous. I don’t usually talk to people I haven’t met. But you insisted. I felt bad. You had no one to talk to, no one to confide in, and I knew that was really all you needed. Or…so I thought. It was…okay, I suppose, for a while.

You were stubborn, I tried to stop you from doing things you shouldn’t. But things went too far. You stressed me out. I couldn’t take the pressure of being your life support. I tried everything. You wouldn’t listen to a word I said, yet you kept coming back for more. I kept feeding you the same bullshit, and you just seemed to like hearing me repeat it over and over. You had a girlfriend, which made me kind of jealous. Someone like you, in all your infinite library of issues, (which isn’t something to be looked down upon, don’t get me wrong,) could have a love life, while I remain alone. Forever alone, because I am unlovable.

And I tried, I tried so hard. I emailed you links, numbers, to therapists near where you lived. I emailed one for you, even though I’m hundreds of miles away. It was because of me that she called your mother and set up a meeting. I offered to talk to your mom, your girlfriend, your best friend, the therapist herself. That was all me. And you took it for granted. You showed up to the meeting, didn’t open up your mind. Stayed shut and stubborn, willing yourself to stay in your pit of horror forever. No willpower. No strength. Not a glimmer of hope that maybe the gun isn’t the only answer. Sad faces sent to my phone left and right, complete disregard for the fact that maybe I need help too! I was alone. I’d lost my only friend who had the guts to listen to me, I needed someone too. But I couldn’t do anything about it.

I kept trying to console you, just giving you barely enough power to live another day. And when I didn’t hear from you for a few days, I googled your name to make sure you hadn’t done what you said you’d wanted to all this time. And now…I haven’t heard from you in months. Through all the trouble you gave me, if anything happened to you, I will never forgive myself. I will always see it as my fault. A normal person would’ve been able to convince you that life was worth living. They would’ve found the words to help you through the rough patch and onto dry land again. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t because I’m worthless. I have no ability to save anyone, no matter how hard I try. And…I’m not sure what to do anymore. Every day I think of the things that could’ve happened to you since the last time we spoke. And what about the things that have happened to me? How many times have I cried myself to sleep, or not slept at all because of all that’s going on with my life? How many times have I been jealous of a cute couple, or even an accidental occurrence between two of my best friends? My realization that I have no clue if I’m in love or not…and that I will probably die alone, no matter how in love I am, because I am not good enough. I will never be good enough, no one will ever say those three words and mean them. I’m going to sit here, in all my fucking infinite stupidity, and make my paper stars until environmentalists start knocking on my door with biodegradable torches.

I’m always going to wonder what happened to you…scroll over your name on my contact list, thinking of sending you a message but knowing not in the slightest what to say. Not wanting to drag myself back into what was. For now I’m stuck. Jealous…of my best friends, nonetheless, even though it’s so, so wrong…And obsessive about my weight. And in love but alone. And watching people around me suffer, trying to help them as best I can but always ending up with the same result. They stop crying, but they still feel what they feel. I’m not strong enough to change it. I’m not strong enough, or good enough, or pretty enough, or whatever, to drag myself out of this ordeal that I’ve been fighting for so long now. I don’t have the strength. And yet I can’t let myself stand by. I still wonder what became of you. Which one of us is better off? Which one of us came closer to biting the dust? Which one craves it more? Have you found someone to replace me? So many questions. So many problems that seem like they’ll never go away. It’s just…I never got so much as a ‘thank you’.