After

After my blood stained my mother’s floor, she cried. She cried for days and days on end. She stopped taking calls, she stopped working, she stopped talking.

After my little brother found my body, he got silent. Dangerously silent. Friends no longer cheered him up, and video games were no longer an escape.

After my grandmother outlived her grandchild, she saved face. She lied to world and told everyone the family was moving on. Behind closed doors she resented the world that took someone so young from her.

After the bathroom floor was scrubbed free of what was once me, my dog spent days outside my bedroom door. Whining and clawing at the small gap between the wood and the carpet.

After my best friends heard the news, they all sobbed over each other. Strangers offered them condolences. But soon enough each of them lost the light behind their eyes.

After my name was chiseled in a stone, complete strangers stood over me. They cried for the person they wish they knew, or they person they wish they were kinder to.

After I died at my own hand, ripples ran through my community. Ripples that I didn’t even realize I had the power to create.

Over-Thinking

I can feel your love slipping through my fingers every time we talk. We go from inseparable to barely speaking in a matter of days. 

Do you only care when it’s convenient? When you need someone to talk to in class? Maybe I’m simply over-thinking; over-analyzing. Maybe that’s just it. Or maybe I’m right. And you’re just too nice to say it to my face. 

“We’re Practically Dating”

When you say “We’re practically dating,” you have no idea how long those words will ring through my ears. It was blissfully ignorant for you to say that, yet when we joke you gag at the thought of me. I pretend to laugh, giving you a disapproving look, although my heart is pounding against my tight rib cage.

Is this all a sign? Are you trying to allude to feelings? I can never tell, you seem to make my world spin. Maybe you just meant that our friendship is so strong. Those nights of cuddling under the same blanket, those jokes, those light flirts, maybe they actually did mean something?

Maybe I was wrong the whole time. Maybe you did have feelings and I was just pretending I was the only one harboring them. Maybe you truly meant those three words entirely innocently. How hard could it be for you to simply leave us as friends?

We started this relationship as friends, and soon we grew close, quickly after I forced my feelings for you deep into the pit of my stomach, and I’ve finally grown past them. Only to be dragged back down into you.

Please, for our sake, please don’t put me through this all over again.