A Rewind Button

Warning: Gutspill. Contains raw emotion. Sorry, had to be done.

I wish my life had a rewind button. I think we all do, but especially me and especially right now. Because last night and this morning, I have felt a feeling that only others in this situation are familiar with. It is the indescribable combination of terror, confusion, compassion, and guilt that one can only feel after they read a friend's suicide note.

After I wrote my last post, I went to go get ice cream with a few friends. When I got home, I checked Facebook quickly, like I always do right before I go to bed, and found this:

"Dear friend, dear family, dear all whom I hate.
This is my chance... My time to escape...
My time to shine, I've just crossed the line.
I swallowed some pills and am slowly dying."

I just wish I could rewind to two nights ago.
I would study instead of freak out about Wsb, so that yesterday morning I would be relaxed enough to take the math test that my life hinges on, instead of stressing so hard about it that I end up coughing blood.
I would avoid the shitty afternoon in the ER and instead have a normalish afternoon in forensics class.
And maybe if I'd had a normal day, I would have been able to focus on other people, not just myself.
I would've seen the signs and intervened appropriately when my friend attempted suicide, instead of simply realizing the news after the fact.
I would be there for him proactively, instead of frantically trying to be there for him after his attempt.
I would stop him, or delay him, or something.
At the very least, I would be there.

This morning, at school, I overheard my Lang teacher discussing his situation with another teacher. The situation is this:
He's alive, he's in a psyche ward, and we won't hear from him for 72 hours.

Sigh of absolute relief.

Just now, this afternoon, on Facebook, he posted a statement simply saying that he was depressed and didn't feel wanted. Of course, he is completely and totally wanted by everyone who knew him, and he says he realizes that now.

This statement accompanied a song. He's always been a ridiculously talented, and now a legit signed and touring, musician. Songwriting is his art form and in this instance, his form of release.

So I listened to the song and shed a few tears. It's all about keeping your head above water and pushing through the hard stuff that life will throw at you. It was a really beautiful song, and he sang it well, but I could tell from the slight tremor in his voice that he was crying too, as he sang.

There I was, listening to my friend, whom I had presumed to be dead, pouring his heart into his piano, and crying shamelessly for the first time in months. I realized that I wasn't close to him, nor important to him, nor even all that significant in his eyes. Despite this, I care about him more than he realizes, and have for a while. All I could think was 'I wish I could rewind'

None of this had to happen, and I somehow feel responsible.


Jules