I just need a place to write down my thoughts...
It all started last January, when Eve, one of my best friends, died from rapid meningitis in 2 days. She was only 19 years old. She didn't have to die. She wasn't supposed to.
My life changed. I slowly became isolated from others. Nick, her boyfriend, and I thought of suicide many times, but we didn't manage it. I guess we aren't still that strong to leave our families and those who care about us behind.
Cutting seemed liked an escape for a while. We're still fighting against it.
I don't know why or how it happened. I don't know why I'm still here alive, healthy, older and she isn't. You may call it luck, fate, or destiny. Whatever name you give to it, it's permanent. The pain is real, a suffocating clamp around my heart and my mind. I could never believe that a day would come when pain felt like the sharpest razor, when smile was too heavy for my mouth, when tears became my most loyal companions.
It hurts. It hurts feeling alone. Alone, isolated, forgotten.
My other friends, Eve's friends too, slowly stopped calling. They didn't care. And if they did, they weren't too strong to actually show it. I stopped trying too.
I gave my exams though, I tried for my future. I'm studying the Veterinary Science, I'm in the second year of my studies.
I don't know why I'm writing all these, my thoughts don't seem coherent.
I don't even remember what a day, a happy day, feels like. The past is too heavy to be carried. Too many memories. A laughter. Her laughter. A gift. A promise. A joke. The way we thought that everything would be possible, that we were young, uncracked, uncrackable, infinite, strong, gods.
But we are nothing. We're just butterflies, caught up in the strength of a wind, a wind stronger than our weak wings. We're birds without wings. We're made of paper, we can be ripped at any time, at any cost, and the world will continue existing without us.
I don't know what lies there, in my future, in 10 or 20 or 30 years time. I don't care either. Sometimes death seems so serene, so peaceful. Like a snowball that slowly turns into water. We were the snowball. But life turned us into water and now we'll travel to the sea and become drops into one billion other duplicate drops.
I'll continue writing, it keeps me calm. For how long, I don't know.