𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

20

dylan hayes

I remember the day I found out she died like it was yesterday. The panic that rushed through me, the fear that followed and my body falling into shock, unable to deal with the news.

I throw my phone onto my bed after checking her location for the eighth time in the past five minutes. It's still off. Her phone must have died, I don't think she charged it last night. She said she was going on a date today and told me not to wait up, but it's been hours and she hasn't come back. She was very excited for the date yesterday so I'm guessing she's just had a good time.

There's a bang on my front door and relief fills my body. She's home.

I run down the stairs to answer the door, only to be meet with her mother. Tears are streaming down her face as she shouts and shouts at me but I don't know why. I step back from the door, trying to put space between us but she steps forward, refusing to back off.

My cheek stings as she slaps me hard and continues to scream things. I can't make out what she's saying because of the sobs she lets out between words.

"It's your fault she did this." Daisy's mother screams at me as tears start streaming down my face.

"Did what?" I cry out.

"Don't act like you don't know. It's your fault!"

"Where is Daisy?" I plead with worst case scenarios running through my mind.

Before I know it I'm stood in front of her lifeless body, watching as it gets dragged out of the shallow river.

I guess the date didn't go well.

I start hysterically laughing and as reality sets in, it quickly turns into hysterical sobbing. I watch as they cover her body with a white sheet, as they drive her away from me. I start to realise things, she barely even mentioned the girls name, she was never going on a date- she planned this.

I start sobbing harder, regret seeping deeper and deeper into my stomach and making me throw up the little I had eaten today. I didn't stop her, I let her go not knowing that she wasn't coming back. I should've known, how didn't I know, I should've seen the signs, how didn't I see the signs, why didn't I stop her?

I can't. I can't do it. I can't do it without her. I can't believe she's actually gone. This has to be a sick joke right? Some crazy sick joke. Daisy's not really gone, she can't be. My Daisy would never leave me. She would never leave me, not like this. Not ever like this. No never, I must be dreaming. Come one Dylan, wake up from this horrible dream now.

I pinch my arms as hard as I can but nothing happens. I try again and again and again until my arms bleed. Why aren't I waking up? This is a dream, this isn't real. Why aren't I waking up? This can't be reality, this would never happen in real life. Not to me; not to Daisy.

But if it is. I won't ever get to talk to her ever again. I won't ever get to see her face or laugh with her or even just exist with her ever again.

She was all I had.

What do I do now? How do I live without her? I don't know how to live without her, I can't. I won't. I don't want to.

In the days that followed I got high so I could avoid feeling very very low. I couldn't process that she wasn't alive anymore. Nobody I knew had ever died, I didn't really understand the idea of never being able to see someone anymore, of someone dying and not being around anymore. It's so permanent. I didn't like permanence, still don't.

And I wish I could say that someone said something to me that helped but no one did. No one said a fucking word.

It's not that I liked anyone in the area anyway but it made me fucking despise them all. For only caring after she was gone and leaving me to grieve alone without any attempt to talk to me, not that I wanted it but I think it would've helped, knowing that someone at least cared enough to ask.

My parents didn't, I got one call from my father asking after 'the girl that offed herself'. He didn't even realise that she was my best friend, my only friend. He just saw it in the news and wanted to see if I'd heard about it.

I'd fucking heard about it alright.

I was living it at that point, it was all I could think about.

I searched through years and years of memories we had together, I replayed all the videos and messages we saved and thought back to every conversation we had, trying to find where I went wrong, what signs I missed but I fell short. I still do now, I just don't know where everything went wrong and God I wish I knew, even if it kills me.

Suicide really fucks you up. It guts you from the inside out and forces you to live as the shell of a person you were before, weak and lifeless. And guilt, guilt is a cloud that looms over my head with regret showering from it every day, drenching me in it's painful reminders. Reminders of texts I never sent, reminders words I never said and reminders of things I never did; things that I wish I did.

I've come to terms with the fact that she wasn't okay, but neither am I and I don't know what to do.