It started about a year and a half ago. There was this boy who rode my bus to school. He was not a good boy, nor an awesome geek boy. He did every drug imaginable, partied all night, stole things, enjoyed vandalism, wore spikes, sold marijuana, didn't go to school. He was the boy your mother warned you about. And he liked me. I was a young and innocent (or not-so-innocent, I suppose) sophomore girl who liked to ride horses.

We played games. We went to parties. We stole things. We ran Mary Jane in my innocent little car. He finished his senior year with a certificate of attendence instead of a diploma. We stole some more things. We ran some coke.

I was drawing away from my life of dandelions and ponies. I was drawing away from my family. I was drowning in this cataclysm of myself. I began to hate everything that I was, everything that he was. I wanted to leave the dark world that I had created for myself. I could see only one way out.

 

I wanted to die.

 

As I swirled in the dark depths, I saw I had a choice . I could choose to live, or I could choose to die. I could choose to feel happy, or I could choose not to feel.

There are so many beautiful things in this world.

Dandelions

Ponies

Smiles                                                                          Stars

People    

That's the choice you have. You do have it. Every day you're able to choose whether you're going to have a good day, or a bad one.
Whether you're going to accept criticism, or let it destroy you.
Whether you're going to bake cookies, or stop eating.
Whether you're going to give someone a hug, or end all your hugs forever.

It's this choice that determines how you feel. If you've chosen to be mad or sad or depressed, nothing anyone says can change that. Only after you've made your choice can I help you. Can anyone help you. The things we say are meaningless until you choose to believe, choose to be helped.

A year ago I chose to be happy.
I chose to feel good instead of feeling hateful.
It's the best choice I've ever made. Every day different people let me know they're happy I chose this - whether they simply smile at me during math or come to me with their darkest problems, I know they want me here.

 

And you know what's really cool? They want you too.

 


I decided to write this now because last night something triggered my memories of those fitful days with that boy. Last night, I was out with the best boy in the world and a friend, and I wanted to steal. I got depressed. I got mad at myself. But not for long. I remembered why I had chosen to live, and I thought of all the beautiful things I would miss. The best boy in the world, a cocky little pony named Scout, zig-zag parts, liquid sunshine, dandelions in springtime.

It doesn't matter what you were in the past, or what you felt before. The only thing you have control of is what you are now. Make your choice about what you want to be, and we'll be here to help you with whatever you need.

It's been 17 days... 17 days since I last heard her voice. 19 days since I last saw her, since I last held her in my arms. She had surgery, she had her tonsils and abnoids taken out, she stayed over night at the hospital. She is 16 years old, I am 17. I stayed by her side the whole time, watching her sleep, scared as this is the first time I've seen someone so close to me hooked up to an IV. She was in a lot of pain and discomfort. We had been dating for a year and a half. She took my virginity, or you could say I gave it to her. I was absolutely in love and wanted to marry her and be with her forever. We talked about our future together all the time. This was the girl of my dreams. And I fucked it up.

I have hit her. I have called her names. I have hurt her. I have hurt her so bad that it hurt me. I believe I have bipolar disorder and probably lots of other problems but I've never been diagnosed. She left me, 17 days ago. 5 days after her surgery. She came over my house every day, and I took care of her. We hadn't been in a fight in nearly 3 months. She called me on the phone the next morning, asking to come over as she always did. I was in a bad mood that morning, I said yes but for some reason she insisted on asking me several times. I yelled at her and said "stop fucking asking the same damn question, I said yes". She said "fuck you" and hung up. Those were the last words I heard from her. She left a message on my myspace page a few minutes later saying "I think we should break up" which really hurt me, so me being the tough ass that I am, trying not to show how hurt I was, replied "Yeah, lets break up".

We have been in a dozen fights worse than this, and always we got back together within hours, or a day or two at the most. We have talked several times via IM's and myspace/facebook messages throughout these past 17 days. And I beg her to take me back. She seems so over me, I see her new photos and she looks amazing, so much more alive without me. I am so miserable, too miserable to even take a photo. I've been crying my eyes out for 17 days. The reason I came across this everything2.com website, is because I had tried to hang myself from my doorway, unfortunately the rope actually snapped, so I just decided to tie it around my neck and pull it tight. It actually took away the horrible headache I had from crying and punching myself in the head. I am so lost without her... I googled easy ways to kill yourself, and one link lead me to a story on this site, I followed links and ultimately came across: "the choice you have to make" and: I cough up butterflies along with several others that really relaxed me.

This girl is the only girl I've been with, the only girl I want to be with, this breakup caught me so off guard. I ask myself why she doesnt love me anymore every 2 seconds. I cry, I don't even realize how I can cry anymore... I wonder where these tears keep coming from. My head feels like it's going to explode. I feel so alone. I lie in my bed, and turn to my right, facing the wall, the wall where all of the photos of her and I are taped on. She put them up there. I begin to tear them down. Crying. I stop, I stare at one photo of her smiling at me, looking right at her, I ask, "why dont you love me anymore?".

I have my fathers issues. He has his fathers issues. I hit her, I swear at her, I hurt her. I love her. I miss her.

17 days and I'm still crying. I wish I was dead. How could she move on when she promised me forever? She promised me forever. But not one phone call. She has done bad things to me and never would I turn my back on her like this. Never.

I love her so much. I still do, I would forgive anything she would do. Why doesnt she love me...why doesnt she love me, I cry as I write this. I can understand her being upset about things I've done. But to leave me, at a time when I felt like everything was fine between us and we were so happy, I will never understand. Her not talking to me for 17 days, I will never understand. It's been 17 days since I've heard her voice. And I miss it so much. I need her way more than she needs me, I guess. I'm looking at the phone right now, wishing it would ring. Every time it does, I grab it, smiling, and quickly my smile fades as I realize it's not her calling. 17 days and I still love you, Jayde.

Log in or registerto write something here or to contact authors.