I awoke in the middle of night, feeling at peace. Almost. The summer air was cool and clear and for the first time in forever, the grief and guilt did not suffocate me. I watched the rise and fall of her chest as I listened to her soft inhales and exhales. The voice in my head had faded away. 

I could breathe. I could live. 

The numbness was gone but so was the pain. It was a thing of the past, all those times I cried out loud but never got the feelings out. 

I lay there, my cheek pillowed on my hand, the dim moonlight bringing me some light. I will get through this night.

Tears slipped down my cheeks silently, but my heart felt free and my body was as light as a feather. The heavy burden was momentarily nonexistent, and that was all that mattered.

“Jess?” 

Her voice was leaden from sleep but filled with worry

I was jostled out of my reverie.

“别担心(don’t worry)” I whispered “ I’m okay.” I turned to face her, and could just make out her eyes that were glistening with tears.

Her arms wrapped around my trembling shoulders, enveloping me in protection before her eyelids closed and she dozed off into another dream.

There was so much that I wanted to say. But perhaps those words were not meant to be said. 

I wanted to tell her I was sorry. For making her worry, and not being there for her, and needing her to be there for me. I am so selfish. She didn’t even have time to recognise her own feelings.

I want to tell her to not worry about me. To stop looking over my shoulder onto my phone screen. You don’t need to see what I am seeing. You don’t need to learn about suicide methods or what death feels like, for you deserve a wonderful life. Don’t worry, you are better off without this stupid me.

I want to tell her that I am afraid of what life and death brings, and how both are filled with uncertainties. I want to tell her I am scared of what I have become, and what I have yet to be. I want to tell her that the pain of dying and the darkness of death scares me, but I don’t see any other way out of this.

I want to tell her I can’t go on. Not like this. For all this struggle is even harder than strangling myself, and it’s beyond me to live through this. Why shouldn’t I chose when i how I make my leave, instead prolonging my life while being buried in deep in all this, till it kills me?

I want to tell her that Kelsey did not take her own life, but I took the life out of her. I missed all the warning signs. When the red flag was right in front of my eyes. I was blind to all those hints tucked in the corners, her desperate cry of help when she had lost her voice.I want to tell you that it is my fault. That I made empty promises I couldn’t complete.

That I hate myself, and you have every right to hate me.

But all the words in the world can’t replace these feelings, and my voice fails me. 

What am I going to do?

What can I do?

Well, I am just going to do my best.

To hold on and learn to be alright.