To the person who left me to survive your suicide:
I know you couldn’t have been in the right state of mind when you made the decision to take your life. But I also know that you didn’t consider what losing you would do to everyone.
When you died a part of my soul died with you. There was a part of my soul that was fighting like hell to survive though. I had to survive the news of you dying, I had to survive the visitation and the funeral and I had to survive all of the years after your suicide.
I had to realize and survive the years when I tried to follow in your footsteps and take my life too. I had to survive and realize that it wasn’t an option to quit. I had to survive all of my friends telling stories about their dad and I had to survive the conversations where people asked about you.
I had to survive watching my siblings, grandma, aunts and uncles avoid conversation about you, just so they could survive. I had to survive my graduation and my siblings’ graduation without you there to tell us you were proud.
I had to survive my sister marrying the man of her dreams without you walking her down the aisle and I had to watch my nieces being born without you there to call dibs on holding them first.
It’s weird how survival works. It’s fight or flight. I chose to fight and well, you? You chose flight and all I could do was survive your suicide.
