Teppo Starts a Public Journal, of sorts

[Teppo]

Hello, all.

I've recently found that when I feel really emotional and can't seem to slip it off, channeling it into a form of writing seems to really help me let go of the emotions.  So I've decided to start trying to do that and because I love when people read and comment on what I write, I figured I would share what I write.  Hence the topic.

But I must warn you all, sometimes my emotions get pretty dark and that means that sometimes these writings will have very dark themes.  I will put the stories in spoiler tags and include some important tags to warn you all, in case it's not something you feel you can handle.

So, onto the first entry.....

Disclaimer:  The story has the theme of suicide.  If that bothers you, feel free to look away now.  If not, then thank you for reading.  Please note that I am okay.  While these words are based on things I actually feel, they're not something I'm actively seeking to do.  I wasn't particularly looking to create an specific meaning in this writing, as it was just to help me slough off some feelings, but if I had to identify one, I would say that the message is:  Your actions have more weight than you might realize.  If when you think you're worthless, you'll affect some people in ways you wouldn't expect.  And people's emotions are complex, the relationships between two humans are not black and white and anything but simple.

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My feet carried me to the front of her house, onto the front of her lawn.  I don't know why.  It wasn't like I made the conscious choice to come here.  And to be honest, I didn't want to be here.  I knew what I would find if I peeked into the window, and it wasn't something I had the strength to face.  Instead, I tilted my head back and into the rain.  Droplets fell, hitting my face like a thousand tiny needles.  Rain fell in great sheets, like someone divine being was dumping full buckets of water across the surface of the planet.

"I'm tired of losing."  I said to no one as I feel to my knees, voice filled with defeat and resignation.  "I'm tired of working so hard to have even a tiny fraction of what others have.  Tired of feeling like I need to be perfect and learn all of the lessons before even being given a chance at love.  Why can't I just live like everyone else?  Why can't I learn while I laugh and love, while enjoying myself and what I have for as long as I have it and making the mistakes and making the memories?"

My voice hardened with anger as the next words fell from my mouth, "When is enough, enough?  When will I have bled enough, hurt enough, and suffered enough for just a chance?  I'm not looking for promises that I'll find the love of my life in the next one, but why can't I just have the time to enjoy having someone to hold for a tiny while, even if they're not the one?  Even if I make a mistake and fuck it all up?  Why do I always have to feel like the man standing outside of the window while watching everyone else bask in the love?"

My hand tightened around the thing in my hand, the metal glinting off of the streetlight slightly, "Is this life not for me?  Am I supposed to wait for the next one?  I'm sick and tired of being put into the path of people I can't have, of feeling like they're only brought to me so that I can learn the lessons without the level of love and affection that I know I need.  I know I'm not a great man.  I know I hate myself a little too much.  I know I feel unworthy and undeserved of love, but I can change.  I can be a better person.  But how am I supposed to keep going without even getting a tiny sign that it's all worth it?  Am I just supposed to suffer without ever knowing that it can get better?  Is this it?"

A bitter smile crossed my lips as I felt my strength falter.  I was surprised by how cold the edge of the metal cylinder felt as I pressed it against my temple.  The rain was easily just as freezing, so I shouldn't have felt it so keenly, but I did.  I took a deep breath, gathering my courage to do one brave thing in my life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She tried to stop as her boyfriend kissed her, a strange sound shaking her from her blissful reverie.  He didn't seem to have heard it, unless it thought it was just the sound of thunder.  Not a hard deduction to make considering the weather.  But she knew something was wrong.  She couldn't explain it, but something didn't feel right with the world.  Much to his confusion, she pushed him away so that she could look out the window.

A horrible, gut-wrenching, soul-shattering scream tore its way up and out of her throat.  The sound of complete and utter denial.  A sound so unique and identifiable that no one would mistake it for what it was.  Grief.  Hyperventilating, she grew animated, trying to go to the men outside with clumsy, reckless movements.  Her boyfriend grabbed her, trying to calm her before she hurt herself.  But how could he understand?  How could he know the depth of emotion running through her head and heart just then?

Of the guilt she felt, knowing that she'd caused this.  In the back of her mind, objectively, she knew it wasn't her fault.  He'd made his choice.  It hadn't been her place to save him, not when she had her own life to live.  So why didn't it hurt so much?  Why did she hate herself in that moment?  She knew it wasn't fair to feel this way, but there it was.

What of the anger she felt?  How dare he do this to her?  He said he'd be okay, that he'd be fine, that everything would be alright.  He said not to worry about him.  How could he fucking lie to her like that!?  How could he let her live her life, not worrying about her friend?  A thousand memories played in her head.  She replayed each second of their time together, desperately searching for a sign, a clue, a word out of place, some action that was uncharacteristic of him that would've tipped her off to his intention.  But there was nothing.  Nothing to justify her self-loathing, nothing to validate her feelings of being a shitty person.  She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something she'd missed, something she should have paid better attention to.  But really, she was just looking for a reason to blame herself.

But what weighed most heavily of all, threatening to crush her under the enormity of its weight, was the profound sense of loss and sorrow.  She mourned for him, knowing he would never have the chance to find the love that he so deservedly deserved.  She mourned for other people, who would never get the chance to know what a good and kind man he was.  She mourned for herself, knowing she'd never again get the chance to converse with him again.  Never again would she hear his voice while he teased her and joked with her at his own expense.  Never again would she read his messages while he spilled his guts about his feelings and his life.  Most people would find that irritating and suffocating, but she'd found it endearing in him.  She had loved hearing him talking, sharing in his life, being proud of his accomplishments, being amazed at his depth of emotion, and feeling genuine happiness at hearing about his accomplishments.

Perhaps what hit the hardest, something she hadn't felt until know was the loss of a potential future.  Even though the timing hadn't been right, right now, there had still a chance for something to change in the future.  But now, there would never be a right time, right place.  That had been stolen away.

She'd finally managed to flail herself free of her lover's grasp and make her way outside, ignoring the pouring rain and how it plastered her hair to her scalp, her clothes to her body.  She slid on her knees across the muddy groan, gathering him up in her arms and cradling his head against her chest.  A wave of sobs wracked her body as tears streamed down her face, mixing with the torrents of rain sluicing down.

How peaceful he looked.  How she hated that he'd only looked like that at the end.  But what hit her the worst, as the rain ran red and washed away all the signs, was how uncannily he looked like he was just sleeping.  Like any moment he'd wake and wish her a good morning like he had a thousand times before.