The Failed Not-So-Fatal Suicide Attempts of a Fragile Boy

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You showed me the scars you got from all those scalpel cuts you implanted on your wrist. White cuts from white cuts, you managed to forge a smile while explaining how you got each one of them. I had mine but nothing of that kind. (Yeah! We, suicidal boys, rock!) Like a valiant, feisty warrior proud of his battle wounds, you revealed yourself to me in the most uncompromising situation possible. And there goes my two-cents of respect for you, I was hoping I could do the same and smile my worries away like you did that moment.

I felt a strong connection being developed ever since our paths intersected. I felt like I know your struggles, I know the way you handle things; I know how your mind works. We both pursued the same degree on different universities and you failed to graduate on time, exactly what happened to me. Though our looks are poles apart, the commonalities were just overwhelming to say at the very least.

I saw myself in you, a parallelism we could never deny – you were like me but much better.

I am much more controlled than you are. You were more transparent and more care free. Though our looks may mislead judgments, I know I am the more serious one and you’re the laid back counterpart. And I know I am (socially) way cooler than you are.

Our circumstances made me realize why I travelled the route different from yours. You mirrored what exactly I envisioned on the other side on my very decisions. Like the way you explored the unchartered place I avoided all my life. Like how you managed to hold on to that one dream I let slipped away. Like how you managed to keep yourself together and not have gotten berserk.

Ultimately, we fell down, gone depressed, hit rock bottom, and picked up what’s left on our dignity. We managed to suck it up, deal with stress and move on. We may never hold on to that promise we will never attempt suicide once more, but heck yeah, we will make sure we will be there for each other whenever we feel like chopping our wrists with scalpels.

And So It Goes

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So everything just went back to normal. Things are settled and so are my emotions. I’ve been the least apologetic person in the world but I said sorry. It sucks to know that I’ve made a mistake and screw up and I must take full responsibility for my actions. But at the end of the day, things happen and you just have to cope up.

I once hated March. I am still not very fond of the month but I don’t hate that much. “It” happened in March and the “It” word constitutes every awful event that happened to me in the recent years. An election loss, graduation that’s yet to happen, shocking news of dismissal, break-up and family gatherings (which always puts me in a miserable position). Yeah, my Lady Luck somehow managed to schedule her vacation during this month for the past two years. And I was left there bewildered, paralyzed and depressed. But then again, you move on and forge ahead.

I told someone once that I may go somewhere and make a great escape. It happened. But not for long since escaping from your problems doesn’t get you to anywhere. I once thought I could live another life and forget about my past. But then you’ll realize how many people suffers much more than you do, how many people actually have been there for you, supporting and caring for you, how many people managed to bounce back and got successful in their life.

I am thankful that I am actually facing these adversities this early in my life. I learn what others may experience in their 40’s where they may get depressed and succumb to failure then die. I learned things the harder way and it made me much stronger; much stronger than the boy who first walked the streets of Diliman. I learned a lot throughout these trying times and I am taking note of everyone who had/has been there for me every step of the way.

And so it goes. I may not be able to get what I want now, but I will sure catch up. God knows I am trying.