Two years, two weeks, two days.

Just a coincidence that the numbers are all two’s. It is just another one of those days that is more shitty than others.

But that is how long it has been since that one suicide attempt that you know of. I remember that day very well. A lot of shit lead up to that day, and I was happy to let it all go. I was ready. A last message to let you know what has been on my mind and off to the finish line.

I just read that message again, and don’t regret any word in it. My only regret is that it was short, and I had to text it. But there was no other way.

I still don’t understand why you didn’t let me go. Was it because you didn’t want to feel bad, for being a reason? Did you call it in to help my family?

I can’t come up with a reason where you tried to help me. You never contacted me to ask how I’m doing. In the two times we spoke after, you didn’t ask if things were better. I don’t think it’s because you don’t care, because that’s not you.

You’re afraid. Not of me, but you are. You’re afraid that he will find out that we met. You’re afraid that I didn’t hear the things you said. You’re afraid that I don’t understand what’s going on.

But I did hear, and I do understand, because I’ve been there. That’s why I try to be as careful as I can be. I’m aware of the damage that can be done for being careless. I told your parents and friend about that, so they could keep that in consideration. And I hope they did.

But it takes pain to see pain. And I’m not ashamed that I had help after the big event. Many things have been shared and discussed there. Some were funny, most were painful. After a bunch of sessions we called it a day, knowing that it’s not just me who is in a shitty place, and that the limits professional help are preventing an outcome that would actually make a difference.

Talking to the councillors and some other people that have experienced similar things, I have been told that you kept me around for you. I need to be patient. Even more than in the last three years. It’s been really hard on me, and still is. I’m not sure where to go from here. I can’t walk away from a friend that needs help. I tried, for my own good. But I can’t live with myself if I did.