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❝ 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝. ❞
People don't know they have someone special until they're gone. That's what happened to Sage Morales and Sawyer Iglesia.
After their fifth grade culmination, Sage...
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5 Years Ago (Seventh Grade)
Death.
It's a word that many people are familiar with. Personally, I don't know it very well, but the people around me will soon because...
I want to die.
It's not a nice phrase, but anything regarding death never is.
And I know it's a selfish thought and I know that if I were ever to say it out loud, people would be like "Sawyer, there are so many people that love you" or "But you have so much life left to live" and my absolute favorite "Think about how the people you left behind will feel."
In all seriousness, I don't care how they'll feel. Did they care about me when I was hurting? Did they make an effort to save me?
No. No, they didn't and the only reason they'd feel guilty or sad about my death would be because they knew they could have done something about it, but they didn't.
Like my mom, for example. I love her and I'm gonna miss her, but she didn't hear me. I tried to tell her that I was struggling, that I was losing myself and the motivation I had left to live, but she didn't get it.
She didn't get that I was calling out for help.
This day.
This fucking day has been one of the toughest yet, and I don't know how much longer I can hold on. But I'm trying, I really am because I'm not doing this for me anymore, no, I'm doing it for them. The people that will miss me when I'm gone, the guilt and sadness that they'll feel, the never ending thought of what they could've done to prevent it.
I don't want the people that I love to feel that way, especially about me. I don't want to die knowing that as I tried to save myself, I ended up drowning the people I love the most. They don't deserve that, and so, I will hold on. At least until I can't anymore.
This survivor's guilt that I feel, or whatever it's called, is why I continue to power through today. It's why I try to keep my shit together and plaster a fake smile on my face.
But, by the time lunch had rolled around and the boys and I were hanging out at our usual lunch table, I could tell that this little facade that I've been trying to keep up wasn't working.
They were all looking at me as if analyzing me—especially Logan—and looking for a way into my brain to find what was wrong.
And even though the looks they were giving me made me anxious, deep down, I was thankful that people had noticed that I was struggling.
All through lunch though, they didn't ask me anything, but I know that they wanted to. I think they were just trying to figure out a way to bring it up that wouldn't lead to me immediately shutting the topic down. Ultimately, I think they were right to not ask me because I didn't feel like talking about it, especially because of the way I was feeling today and because they're... them.
