For those who stay

Grief is insane; it’s a feeling only those who experience it can explain. It’s knowing you will never  see someone again but still looking for them everywhere—in music, movies, tv shows, books,  places, parties, and within yourself. It’s trying to keep a flame alive that you know will go out; in  fact, it went out a long time ago. It’s accepting how indifferent we are and how short life is. It’s  looking back and realizing all the things you could have done but didn’t. But that’s normal grief.  Grief from suicide is different. 

Grief from suicide is trying to find where you went wrong. It’s seeing that your best friend chose  to leave and didn’t give you a chance to help. Didn’t give you a chance to say how much you  loved them. Didn’t give you a chance to show how much life is worth living, how much THEY are  worth. Grief from suicide is looking at life with despair, thinking that at any moment someone  might choose to leave you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s thinking: where did I go  wrong? How did I not notice? How did I not see that something was wrong that day? How do I  overcome being the last person to talk to him and still not having saved him? How do I overcome  being the one to tell your best friend’s parents that their son died and that you couldn’t do  anything? How do you understand that you were not there when he needed you the most? 

For those who stay, it’s not your fault. You did what you could. Stop blaming yourself. 

I know you will start clinging to your phone, always waiting for bad news. I know you will develop  empathy for everyone and learn to look at others with different eyes. I know you won’t want to  talk about your feelings to avoid making anyone uncomfortable but at the same time hope  someone asks so you can lift a weight off yourself. I know you will be ghosted by someone and  always wonder what you did, what you could have done, and always want closure. Because one  of the worst feelings is trying to talk to someone and they don’t respond. It’s that trigger taking  you back to all the “please answer me,” “please answer the phone,” “I love you, don’t leave me”  moments and never getting an answer back… because he was already gone. It’s the feeling of  preferring to be insulted and humiliated rather than ignored. And that’s something you won’t tell  people, because you don’t want anyone to think you’re weak or needy. In fact, you just want to  be able to breathe in peace. 

I know you will put on the armor of a strong person, but deep down you’re not. You’ll say you’re  okay but you’re not. Or maybe you are and you don’t know. Who am I to say? 

Perhaps in another life, I could have changed what happened; perhaps I couldn’t. Perhaps I  would have looked at my phone 5 minutes earlier and would have been able to call him in time; 

perhaps he wouldn’t have answered anyway. What I know I would have changed was making sure  he knew how much I loved him and how much I would miss him. If heaven truly exists, I think he  knows that already. 

But for those who stay, stop blaming yourself. You couldn’t have known and there was nothing  you could do. Stop thinking about what could’ve happened and move on. 

For those who stay, have empathy for others, because if you don’t even know what’s going on in  your own best friend’s mind, imagine with strangers. 

For those who stay, you don’t know how much tiny actions impact people in a good or bad way,  be kind. 

For those who stay, say you love who you love because you’ll never know when it will be the last  time. 

But above all, for those who stay, love yourself and know that someone loves you, ask for help,  talk, allow yourself to feel, and be kind to yourself. You’re stronger than you think. Life is hard,  but it is worth living.