-Luka (#1)

I’ve been attempting to write this for a long time, but I don’t think it’ll make much sense because really don’t even know how I feel. I really don’t know much of anything besides the fact it hurts to be alive. I miss you more than words could ever express, and I just wish you hadn’t done what you did. You thought taking your own life would only affect you, but you took another life with yours, and if you could be charged with a crime right now, I’d arrest you for murder because you killed me.

They tell me it’s been two years since you left, and time doesn’t really matter because time gets dragged out when you feel like this. Regardless of any technicalities, when you’re me, that feels like a lifetime; at least, it does in this state. I know it’s selfish to want you here for my benefit, but I have yet to sleep without the effects of a pill in the two years you’ve been gone. When you were here, you were the pill that eased everything just enough for me to sleep for a few hours, good for an insomniac like me.

People may say that I’m still stuck in time, that no matter how long it seems or feels, it’s only been two years, but who gets to decide that? Who gets the say on how time is measured? Time seems to speed up when people are happy or excited and seems to slow when people are sad or waiting for something better than what they have to come along, and everything would be better when you decided to sleep. But you know me, Delyeah. I don’t sleep. I maybe sleep three to six hours a week, whereas a normal person sleeps roughly forty-two to sixty-three hours a week. I have a lot of extra time on my hands, it may seem, but I spend the majority of all my time feeling exhausted, drained, and depressed, making time drag out, so if time seems to go slower, is it still time? And is it still time when I spend more of it awake than everyone else?

I don’t even have an urge to sleep anymore because even though it makes my eyes water, all I want to do is think about you, you and how perfect you were to me. I want to think about how soft your long blond hair was and how pretty your light brown eyes were and how cute your freckles that ran over the bridge of your nose were and how beautiful your smile was. And I want to think about how perfect your personality was despite the fact that your personality, along with my own, was made up of tests and pills, how you always made me feel like I was never alone in this world because even though we were going through different things, we felt the same. We both felt like there was someone trying to take over our vessels similar to how all the demons in shows and movies do. Depression was one of our shared demons, and it won your vessel, and it’s pretty damn close to winning mine too.

I’ve been attempting to write this for a long time, and Delyeah, I’m still not sure if it’s a suicide note. I know you’re gone. It hurts, but I know, and I always promised I’d leave you one. I’m not sure if I even have the guts to take my own life. I’m not sure I could take away the only memories we have together away from this earth. I don’t think I could deprive the world of the last pieces of you. Your parents died a long time ago, your grandmother died right after you did, you don’t have any other family that I know of, I’m the only one left who remembers you. I’m the only one left who remembers all of the good and bad times we had together as best friends and as a couple. I’m the only one who is capable of describing you in detail to anyone who is willing to listen even though the voices tell me that no one ever listens. They told me a lot of bad things about you, but I never listened because you were the only one who could ever get the to shut the hell up. Do you remember? When we were eight?

Your grandmother brought you into the home that my parents had thrown me in because I was their little psycho boy. She couldn’t find anyone to watch you, and she figured we could play for a little while because she thought I was a sweet boy. She knew why all of the other people who were being paid to bring me the necessities I required had quit. I didn’t like them, so I made them quit. I always liked Gretta.

She brought you in, and this must have been her tenth or fifteenth visit by then. You were shorter than me back then, and when we became friends, I picked on you about it all the time. Your hair was a lot brighter than it was when we were in our adolescence. I remember you stayed hidden behind her leg for a little while, and I hadn’t noticed you until Gretta made you introduce yourself. You were so cute, even then.

You said, "H-hi, I’m Delyeah," and it took me a moment to realize there was someone else in the room because I had been in the living room, watching Digimon. I was just trying to block out the voices in my head, but it wasn’t working very well. When I heard your voice, I first assumed you were just another voice, but when you asked me who I was, I realized there was another human being in the room with me.

I looked over at you, and everything was quiet except for the sound of the TV and Gretta cooking us all pork chops, which I later learned to be your favorite meal. It was silent in my mind. No voices, no thoughts, no nothing. Just silence. That had never happened to me before, and I wasn’t really sure how to feel about it. I didn’t hear them again that day, not until you left. I know I told you about it, but you probably never thought a thing of it again.

Do you remember Zakari and Kendall? You were the one who introduced me to them. Well, I got in touch with Zak a little while back. Kendall killed herself, too, about a year ago. Zak is the only reason I’m not in a mental asylum. I’m the reason he isn’t either. He finally got emancipated right after we all four lost touch.

You and I started dating when we were 12, and Zakari and Kendall started dating when they 12 as well. I never told you, but Zak and I had liked you two for a while, and we made a deal that we would tell you guys and ask you out. That’s why our anniversary was on the same day as theirs.

Remember that little tradition we had? When we would double date for our anniversary, we took turns planning the date and getting gifts, but we always got each other gifts, despite the rules.

I don’t want to relive our memories because they’re over, and I’m always reminded of that. I don’t want to live anymore, Delyeah, but I don’t know what I’m going to do anymore. I just hope you know I loved you more than anything, and I still do. I love you, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.