carved angel

eleven years ago november 11, i met someone who would change my life. and not in an entirely good way. but he was a part of my history, and became a large part of who i am today. on november 11, he became my boyfriend and would be for about five months. that seemed like such a long time back then. and then something happened, and i didn't ever want to see him again. the experience changed me, and changed the way i looked at the world and other people, especially men. and he was more or less out of my life for ten years.

not long ago, he found his way back into it.

i told myself i forgave him for what he'd done. i thought i had gotten past it. but i guess i hadn't. and i lashed out at him in a way i have never done. i don't do that to people, ever. but my reaction was so visceral, and ten years of hate and hurt and fear and anger and disgust poured out of me. and i didn't hear back from him.

until october 30. he sent me a message saying he loved me, and i had helped him to see the light. he had always had a problem with those words: i love you. when we were together, he would only say ich liebe dich. but i didn't read the message until november 3.

the day he took his own life.

and by then it was too late to say anything. but what would i have said to that, anyway? i'm still not sure. to be honest, probably nothing. as it was, the message sat in my inbox for days, unread, in an account i seldom use. and i don't know how to feel about all of this. i have never known anyone that has done this, before. and i have never personally known anyone who died so young. (27) it was only a year ago that i lost my mother. and then at least i knew how i felt. there was no conflict, no regrets, no doubt. this time, i can't say the same. i know he made his own choice, but i also know what it feels like when you want to die. you sit there and list, in your head, all the reasons you have to die. how few reasons you have to live. and i can't help but feel that maybe i had contributed to that. my words helped make up that list of reasons that life wasn't worth living. and i know that it's selfish, but i value human life so much that the thought of having contributed, in any way, to the end of one... well. it's just overwhelming.

i can't tell you how i feel about all of this. or how i feel about him. i can't describe it, or put it into words. i'm not even sure, myself, half the time. but i do know that at least i've learned something. i will never again say to someone the sorts of things i said to him. i will not hold grudges, no matter the reason. this is something that will probably weigh on my conscience, to some extent, for the rest of my life. he was a lot of things to me. before things went so wrong, he had been my first love, and i, his. and then there was a long period of time during which i hated him, and then just general ambivalence.

but now he's gone. and it's not up to me to decide whether the world is better or worse off without him. and, unlike when mum died, i now know that all that has changed is that one wave has broken and another will rise in its place.