Saturday, December 19, 2015


what I'm about to read is a response to a quote that I've seen several times on social media. this is the quote. "If I killed myself tonight, the stars would still appear, the sun would still come out, the Earth would still rotate, the seasons would still change... so why not?"

this is a lie.

do not try to tell me that your siblings would not stare at the cracked walls that belong to what used to be your room, curling up trying to fit themselves into the indentions you left on your bed, reaching out and trying to grab hold of the lost edges of your silhouette.

do not try to tell me that your teacher would not try to break the news to your classmates with tears in their eyes as everyone glances at your empty seat, some bursting into tears, others silent, stuck inside a shock so numb that you're frostbite comparable.

do not try to tell me that the students at your lunch table would not sit in silence, wishing and hoping with unreasonable optimism that you were there to fill the silent air with your charismatic  whispers, and light laughter, and perfect smiles.

do not try to tell me that your parents would not find you and fall upon broken knees beside you, pinning the reasons for your death on their chests like name tags, and pour themselves into a mixed drink, two parts sadness, and the other chilled denial.

do not try to tell me that your grandparents would not burst into tears, and have dreams that feel like nightmares of you having grandchildren of your own, a bittersweet coping mechanism to accompany the wishes that they have of outlasting you.

do not try to tell me that your best friend would not throw themselves off of the pillar of your friendship that you built like bricklayers together, only to land on bruised asphalt, blaming themselves for not having the ability to see the signs you kept locked in a toolshed, key thrown, where you thought most would never find it, stuck between your molars in the smile you never gave anymore.

do not try to tell me that I will not have problems going on without you, because I will see the promises of this world in roses dotted with thorns, and in the sound of waterfalls cascading on to soaking ground, and in the fire ants tracing the sidewalk in front of your house, and in your limp hands lying in your casket, and spend all my first star wishes, wanting you here beside me to experience life with me and do stupid stuff with me and make mistakes with me and bake cookies with me and hug me.

do not try to tell me that the stars would still come out and the sun would still rise and the earth would still turn and the seasons would still change and that physicality is inevitable because you are fearfully and wonderfully made psalm 139:14, and you, not the physical you, but the shining, glistening, shimmering personality that you have tried to hide to the point of extinction, is going to get better, and you are going to be alright.

don't try to tell me that you don't matter. 
because I don't want to live in a world where someone as amazingly charming  as you, thinks that the only way out is through a rough and needless execution.

this is a lie.



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