Half Moon


Half Moon

July 31st 2002

Today for the first time in 6 months I sat on the white hammock by the window in my room, you used to call it the half moon. Do you remember? We spent a lot of time there when we were younger but you still liked to use it as an escape zone, until recently. When I closed my eyes I could still see you, laying there with your eyes closed and your headphones in and I wondered, what did you think or dream about when you spent hours there?

I decided then that today I would finally try to tell you what you’ve done to me, how your actions have impacted my life. I know that I haven’t always been the best at communicating, but today was the day. With the help of that cool notepad that we bought in staples last year because we thought the colourful pages represented the LGBT community but it turned out that actually when the cashier scanned it, the till read “unicorn” notepad.

It was harder than I thought though! How can I possibly tell a dead girl that she has broken my heart in more ways than she will ever know? I want to yell at you. I want to say I told you so even though that probably makes me insensitive. I want to tell you that your funeral was the most physical pain that I’ve ever experienced even though I didn’t cry. I want to hit you, I want to slap you back into life.

I saw your mum in the supermarket a couple of days ago, she looked pale and exhausted and she could barely look at me in the eyes but the hug she gave me was excruciatingly tight. I wonder if she blames me. I wouldn’t blame her if she did. I blame me, I could have done more! You were always smarter than me, you got better grades at most subjects than I did. That’s why it’s so hard for me to accept that you were this stupid!

You killed yourself even though you didn’t commit suicide, but the choices you made that night led you to that fate. I blame you too. I told you don’t take those pills and I begged you not to get in the car with those fools but you, you were always chasing the moon and the stars. Part of me wishes you’d listened to me, your best friend, your soulmate. All of me wishes I’d gone with you that night, all of me wishes I’d taken the pills and gotten into the car with you, because at least now I wouldn’t be left being pen pals with a grave and my moon would always be full.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s