Gravitron
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We had a really deep talk tonight, that was healing of some of the scars on our friendship. How our own separate traumas and your undiagnosed chronic fatigue caused communication barriers and misunderstandings.
You were in a strangely conversational mood, probably because you’re staying in a guest house, since your mom almost gave you covid…
It was really nice.
But after we texted goodnight, as I laid down in the dark of my room, tears silently stained my pillowcase.
You are so intelligent and moralistic, and in a messy traumatized world, that combination is a curse…
This world has not been kind to you, and it continues to move on without you, despite the realities of still being in an active plague, and what that means for people like you.
We both know the precipice that you stand on… You’ve made it clear that you are a hairpin trigger away from suicide if the world keeps spinning with no solution.
And no matter what I do to try and keep you here, I cannot stop the spinning… And I cannot stop the tears.
Because at the end of every conversation, I wonder if I’ll get the chance for another… Or if, once again, my life will be pinned beneath the crushing weight of my friends suicide, while the world just keeps spinning. spinning. spinning.
We met up this weekend and took our walk through the woods. I made you a birthday cake and you shared your childhood drawings with me. We talked about mental health in small intervals followed by the silence that we often share, a neurodivergent comfort that neither of us seem to mind. We’ve always communicated much better through writing, haven’t we? I remember when I found you eating lunch in the bathroom and how our passed notes beneath the stall kindled our friendship. I don’t know if you know how much I appreciate your willingness to hold space for me in that way… Recently I’ve been in a dark place of feeling like a terrible person for the way I’ve made interactions unpleasant for others, because of my piss-poor job at humor and attempts to connect. I suck. I am attempting to grow after being given direct confirmation of my shortcomings, but I can’t help but feel like if I died today, I’d have an empty funeral because of the way my flaws overshadow my goodness. I know internally I am a very empathic person, but I think I struggle to externalize that… I’ve even struggled with that with you, and I have a lot of regret for not realizing it in the past. But you see me, don’t you? At my empty funeral, I’d still find you, wouldn’t I? I take great comfort in feeling known by you. Of knowing that even though I am so flawed you still see value in me. I hope you know I see it in you too. You struggled when I told you I think you’re a good person. You told me about all of your angry spiteful thoughts and how you tossed all of your other friends out of your life. But all I could see was a good person whose morality in this broken world, has led to a broken heart. I’m still worried that soon enough, unbeknownst to me, I’ll have my last walk with you. I hope you know, I’ll be at your funeral. I won’t let it be empty. I don’t say it directly, but I love you… I love you so much. I hope, much like the good you see under my skin, you notice that I love you. I’m thankful that I have been able to exist in your existence. I hope I get to make you more birthday cakes… But if I don’t, and the world keeps spinning, I will carry every piece of you that you’ve given me, no matter the weight. In the endless stretch of silence, I will keep writing to you… Until the ride stops.
Tonight I sat with a friend who’s been suicidal and we watched a movie; I am trying to help them live… Tonight, during the movie, you messaged me to tell me you almost killed yourself…. You found out that they are defunding covid/Long covid research and you almost ended your life… Tomorrow I’ll be back at my friend’s house trying to help them live but I know my mind will also be focused on you. I don’t know how to try and help you live in a world that doesn’t care about your health. I know I can’t convince you, but I want so badly for you both to live. It feels like all the times I tried to sit up on the gravitron as a kid. Every muscle in my body aching, just trying to have the strength and control and keep my body from crushing into the wall. Every bit of my heart feels that way right now, just trying to find some way to encourage life in this desolate wasteland. I know it is selfish- but I hope you stay. I hope you live long enough to see something grow again. I hope I am strong enough to stay sitting up. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t care if every muscle aches. I don’t care if it makes me sick. I’ll do anything I can. I just want you to stay… I love you.