Sometimes "Yes" Is The Thing You Can't Say

I am going to tell you a story; a memory that just came back to me. It consists of me and three people: "Sadie," Becky," and "Carlie." I'll just call them that for the sake of everything.

One night nearly a year ago, I am texting Carlie. We talk about the usual things: boys, school, summer vacation, SOL's (finals), et cetera. Somehow, I don't remember how we came to this, she asks me a question that takes me forever to answer. I had said something, and her reply was this: "Wait...are you suicidal?" I couldn't breathe. And after a moment, I say no. I put my phone away, and I go to sleep. The next day, I am over at Sadie's house. We're all there; me, Sadie, Carlie, Becky. We're sitting in the living room, and the TV's on. I am sitting on the couch beside Carlie when I ask: "Did you delete our conversation from last night? I just don't want someone else to read it and take it the wrong way." Carlie replies that she hasn't. And then Becky hears us and a scuffle ensues, eventually ending when she captures the phone. Becky scrolls through the messages, finally finding mine. As she reads, her smile disappears. She looks up and asks the same question as I had been asked the night before. "Are you suicidal?" I feel like a crowd is watching me, holding their breath as they wait for me to answer. Again, I say no.

And that, my dears, is the moment I wish had gone differently. At that second, I wish that I had said yes. In a split second, I could have changed everything. I don't know where I would be now if I had said yes. Maybe dead. Maybe happier than I am now. Maybe I would be exactly where I am, just not writing this. I don't regret very much in my life. Only a few brief seconds, but none of those moments make any mark on my life. This one, however, does. The reason for the no wasn't because I was afriad of what they would think. Rather, I couldn't say it to myself. I knew in my mind that it was true, but saying it verbally was the one thing I couldn't do.

I surprised myself today when I realized how very few of my friends know about what happened to me last year. Three, four? Maybe a few more, but they aren't my friends. Four people. I'm scared about how people will treat me if I say it, even if we're freinds. I don't want them to have to watch what they say around me.

Alright, I shall say goodbye to the population of what, two people who actually read my blogs.