DON'T DIE
When I was younger, in my early twenties, I always wanted to
die young. I guess that’s what every young adult believed in, included me, but
depression wasn’t a thing in around 2012-2016. I didn’t even know if that’s what
we called as mental illness. All I knew was I didn’t know anything but suffered
from unknown pain and beliefs.
The opposite of that, I said “Don’t die!” That’s been my
favourite quote since I read the Maze Runner sequel books. I didn’t know what
that means but it’s a cool thing to tell myself “Don’t die!” when I always
wanted to end things. To end me. I used to wear all black sitting in the corner
of the class, thinking about what kind of suicide scenario fit me better or
make me less sad: The Virginia Woolf of Sylvia Plath death tragedy.
I honestly wrote or thought about my suicide note. There
would be like, I would write their names, in red bold underlines, the people
who made me suffer from whatever it was. I would thank all my best friends and nice
people, in pink bold and dried flowers. I would pack all my folders, files,
papers, all form of poems and bad arts and writings in one vintage big bag. I would
hand it to my friend, Cloudsans or Ollgdhoni, so they could maybe read it later
or burry it by the lake.
Then I grew up, or grow old, graduated from Art’s department
that I am proud of. I chased my dreams, published one or two pieces of shit on
indie publisher. By then, I started to believe that I don’t wanna die anytime soon.
I slowly lost in the adulthood world, like I thought I found me, and I thought
I was happy, but there was another rabbit hole. No education ever told you
about how to live your life, or how to love yourself and people around, or at
lease how the world works, or simply mental health.
I always thought I am doing better but then I am just a sad
girl in the sad-sad world.
Even today, I can’t forgive myself for her death
I lost my best friend in November 2017. I used to tell her “Don’t
die!” then she died in the most painful season of my world. The day she died, I
knew I wasn’t really a good friend for her. I never really told anybody about
how it broke my heart till now. When you felt so sad and you just deny the fact
that it happened. Even today, I can’t forgive myself for her death.
I left her when we were in the final year of college. I
mean, I let her go just like it was nothing for me. I was so idealistic, and
pathetic, and thought my life better than her, and basically selfish. For years
since that, I refused to ask about her, how she was doing, and I even blocked
her on all sources to me. I didn’t remember what we fought for or why we separated
away but now I knew, I should have asked her to stay with us.
I didn’t know she had diabetes after we graduated. I didn’t know she had done
several surgeries before. I didn’t know she was in the hospital for months. I didn’t
know she suffered from real physical and psychological pain. I didn’t knew
anything about her and I wish I knew. I wish I was there when she needed a
friend to talk. I wish I was with her cheering her up in the back of that green
curtains. I wish I held her hand telling her that we’re alright. I wish I wasn’t
so stubborn to put myself first and let my friend died alone like that. I wish
I said sorry to her for my bitchy side. I wish, at least, I called her that
night.
I always feel like it’s my mistake. I killed her too. My
absence, my ignorance, my cruelness, my cold side of the world, and my terrible
behaviour toward her. That day on her funeral, a part of me died too. I wish it
was a dream. I wish she was alive. I wish I didn’t leave her. I wish I was
there in her final breath. I wish I knew.
I cried a lot in the back of the door. They said, patience and
please calm. They said, please look at her for the last time. They said, just pray
for her. But I can do none of them. I closed my eyes, cried, hugged Ich and
Don, and that was so dark. How I wish I could turn back time.
Even today, I wish I hugged him so tight that night
The lost of her had taught me some valuable lesson, that I
gotta take care of my friends better. Not just by the words, but for the real actions
and affections. Mostly, I didn’t have that much friends. As I grew older, my
circle got smaller and that meant a lot to me. The words “Don’t die” now have a
deeper meaning for my life. I wish the people I love don’t die cause the pain
is unbearable. Or maybe, I need to die first so I wouldn’t know how it feels to
live without them.
One night in late March 2018, we gathered in a small café nearby
our old college. I called that one guy, my best friend, to come over. We didn’t
speak lately for the sake of adult life. When I called, he rejected and call
another friend. I got a bad mood cause he rejected my calls.
Few minutes later, he came a long with his bike. He wore
grey t-shirt and a green cap. I looked at him walking to us and my first reaction
was, “How the hell you look so sad?!” But I didn’t say that to him cause it was
in the crowds. Also, the rest of the group didn’t know that we had such a good
connection cause we got that connection when everybody else has left the
university.
He sat on corner and I was in another corner. I just stared
at him looking sad. I got so many thoughts in my head about his life as he was
talking to another friends. He said, he dropped out. He said, he just got a
small bump accident. He said, he was fine but I know he wasn’t. I got a bad
feeling that night. All I wanted was just hug him so tight, but then we didn’t really
talk.
Long story short, just a week later, I got a DM from her gf
on Monday morning. She said, he’s gone yesterday. I tried to believe it was a
hoax since I never really talked to that girl, tho. I tried to believe that my
bad mood about him a week ago just a lame bad mood cause we didn’t talk when we
met. I tried to believe that she pranked me that April fool’s day. I tried to believe,
no, he didn’t die. He promised me he won’t die. He said, "Don’t Die too!”
It’s confirmed that he’s gone and buried last night. Another
part of me died all alone. He was my best friend. He was a good boy. He loved Peterpan.
He adored my poems. He gifted me Murakami’s books. He helped me in the final
year. He hugged me always. He called me Piglet. He was so handsome and kind and
beautiful and warm and lovable. But he’s gone now.
Another part of me died too.
Even today, the fear of losing people I love
It was basically, I lost two best friends in just six
months. I couldn’t tell you, the pain’s like so big and terrifying. I can’t breathe.
Even it’s been years, I can’t breathe. I can’t even talk about it. I don’t know
what I am feeling. I can’t even cry sometimes cause there no tears left. I am just
grieving, for years, grieving for them.
I got the fear of losing people I love, since then. I don’t wanna
feel that kind of pain again. I don’t wanna see them being dead. I don’t wanna
lose them. The fact that we are all gonna die has haunted me to the core. I always
try to treat people good, to make them feel loved, to say sorry when I do
mistake, to not hurt them, and just to be nice to each other. Cause I am so
afraid that one day they gonna die or I am gonna die, so we left some good last
days, at least.
But still, life hits me. Death hunted me. I just can’t bear with the pain and
the fear. Even today, that kind of pain has created the inner child in me, to
grieve for more.
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