Four years ago…
Sitting here on the cooling sands, watching the sun kiss the moon goodnight, a fleet of memories and realities slam my mind. As the breeze calls for my hoodie to cover my chilled bones, these tears begin to trickle down my freckled cheeks. The thought of my demise never bothered me, this type of life that was cursed upon me includes death as a forefront thought that never takes a break. Yet here I am, shivering at the thought that death has finally kissed my forehead.
My past flashing by, the memories of birthdays and holidays spiral by. Watergun fights, family Bbq’s, endless beach trips, graduations, family game nights, concerts and hockey games.
Past scars temporarily unstitching themselves causing flashes of surgeries, bullies and dark times that tried to break me and damn near did.
I survived. Everything the world hurled at me and here I am still dancing.
Then my mind shifted to all the future beautiful moments I’m never going to witness.
Sharing my story with others, being their jumpsuits. Turning up the volume in ending the stigma that continues to stifle the suicidal hearts. I had plans…
Is the toxicity of my last relationship going to be what I have to try and consider love?
I’m never going to find true love, to have that day of saying “I do” to my “Jack” in front of our family and close friends…I’ll never have kids, to see them grow up, smile as they wake Christmas morning, to make pancakes with them on weekends, to watch them fall in love with the beach while enjoying an gooey s’more and bonfires. I’ll never get to cheer them on at their sports games, school plays, graduations. I’ll never get to spoil them on their birthdays or hand over those keys when they get their license.
The thought of watching my kids find their soulmates, having families of their own and being the Grandma who gets to spoil her grandkids is fading with every tear. The wish of sitting on the front porch with my partner when we’re 80 years old, sipping tea and remenicsing down memory lane was vastly slipping into the land of the forgotten.
These dreams of mine hung in the balance right beside these decisions I need to sign, seal and deliver.
Do I pull myself back into the world I swore I’d never reenter?
Do I do morph, fight and conquer once again? Do I have enough energy, enough will to do so?
What if this battle isn’t victorious…all the research I’ve done (from dietary changes to vitamins, supplements) what if it fails. Do I cave to professionals or do I punch out (PAS) while I’m still myself?
Every memory played in my mind like the most beautifully intense movie I’ve ever seen.
Every broken dream flickered in my eyes.
Four years later…turns out this world and I aren’t finished with one another yet…
Perhaps that kiss from death was for good luck in the future…
Everytime I think I’m done, something pulls me back in…
I just wish I knew what that something is because I’d like to say thank you…
I’ll be right there, but you’ll have to grab my throat and lift me in the air…if you need anyone… -Twenty One Pilots