Not Quite Over
About a year ago, I lost one of the most important people in my life. My boyfriend Alexx White. He was my eternal love, the man that I'd known for years on end. I loved him with all my being, with all my power, with everything I could manage. But it all came crashing down when I walked through his bedroom door to see him in his fanciest suit, hanging by his belt. He had a box with a ring in his left hand, which apparently was an engagement ring for me. In his death note, he told me that it wasn't my fault, that this was his choice, that he knew I wouldn't have said yes because of his background. Although Alexx had a rough life and a rough upbringing with his father, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. We were of age that we could get married if we chose to, and I would have gotten engaged to him if he asked that day, a week ago, hell even a month ago. I loved him with everything I had, and I'm sure somewhere inside of him that he loved me too.
The fact of his suicide caused me to attempt suicide as well, just so I would get to be with Alexx again. I tried everything from cutting to overdosing on pills. It got so bad that I was hurting myself during school hours. Sneaking into the bathroom with a switchblade just to help myself relieve the pain I was in. One day, I couldn't take it anymore and I confessed to my teacher Mrs. Dirkse about all the trouble I've been having. I told her everything and then she went with me to the principal's office. We talked it out and they figured it was best to send me to therapy. It wasn't a stay-at-the-hospital-overnight kind of thing. It was basically like school but instead of learning about science and mathematics, we learned how to channel our emotions into something beneficial and stop our urges from happening again. I was put into a group of about six kids that never stayed the same. There were always kids leaving and new people coming in. I met some people, crushed hard on some people, but no one stayed long enough to know who I was. That wasn't what we were there for.
It's been almost a year since Alexx committed suicide before our future. We had plans to do everything that I've been wanting to do since I was 5: date, get engaged, marriage, have kids. I lost all of those things when he lost himself. But I'm getting better.
I've been in a mental institution twice due to Alexx, given a therapist to help myself, and dozens of cutting scars. All of this and self confidence issues, and I'm a basket case. I always doubt who would love me, and I doubt my worth to anyone. I doubt my friends, my family, my boyfriend - basically everyone in my life.
But this isn't making me into a bad person. Sure, I'm messed up. But I'm not letting it define me. I may be depressed, bipolar, and dozens of other things. But I am not a quitter. I don't plan on quitting my life for someone who doesn't even have any plans for his future. I loved Alexx, but all this made me feel like it wasn't meant to be. If he was so saddened to kill himself, it wasn't meant to be. He ruined my plans, but I'm not depending on him anymore. I'm not going to be a sad sack because of him. After all this, I know one thing. All my life, all my plans...I'm not done. It's not over, and neither am I. I'm just getting started.
The fact of his suicide caused me to attempt suicide as well, just so I would get to be with Alexx again. I tried everything from cutting to overdosing on pills. It got so bad that I was hurting myself during school hours. Sneaking into the bathroom with a switchblade just to help myself relieve the pain I was in. One day, I couldn't take it anymore and I confessed to my teacher Mrs. Dirkse about all the trouble I've been having. I told her everything and then she went with me to the principal's office. We talked it out and they figured it was best to send me to therapy. It wasn't a stay-at-the-hospital-overnight kind of thing. It was basically like school but instead of learning about science and mathematics, we learned how to channel our emotions into something beneficial and stop our urges from happening again. I was put into a group of about six kids that never stayed the same. There were always kids leaving and new people coming in. I met some people, crushed hard on some people, but no one stayed long enough to know who I was. That wasn't what we were there for.
It's been almost a year since Alexx committed suicide before our future. We had plans to do everything that I've been wanting to do since I was 5: date, get engaged, marriage, have kids. I lost all of those things when he lost himself. But I'm getting better.
I've been in a mental institution twice due to Alexx, given a therapist to help myself, and dozens of cutting scars. All of this and self confidence issues, and I'm a basket case. I always doubt who would love me, and I doubt my worth to anyone. I doubt my friends, my family, my boyfriend - basically everyone in my life.
But this isn't making me into a bad person. Sure, I'm messed up. But I'm not letting it define me. I may be depressed, bipolar, and dozens of other things. But I am not a quitter. I don't plan on quitting my life for someone who doesn't even have any plans for his future. I loved Alexx, but all this made me feel like it wasn't meant to be. If he was so saddened to kill himself, it wasn't meant to be. He ruined my plans, but I'm not depending on him anymore. I'm not going to be a sad sack because of him. After all this, I know one thing. All my life, all my plans...I'm not done. It's not over, and neither am I. I'm just getting started.
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