My boyfriend committed suicide
"Dear Mookychick,
I'm not looking for answers. I'm just looking for anything that can closely relate to how I feel.
Like anyone, I fell in love. I meet Michael when I was a sophomore in high school, September 3 2004. He was the first guy I could talk to about everything. Religion, politics, school, friends, life in general. When I moved to Washington to live with my mom, he went into boot camp for the army.
So junior year came along. New school. New boys. None of them really caught my attention... it was just so boring, so bland, nothing to talk about, nothing to connect with. Mike still kept in contact with me through AIM. Then, out of the blue, he called me to tell me he wanted to be with me. We were dating, we liked each other, he called me every day and we talked for hours and hours. For the first time in my life, I felt so alive. I got so excited getting up every morning, knowing that I had a good man.
I soon moved back to my dad's house in my home town. The day I came back there was Micheal holding flowers at my door step. My junior year was full of mixed emotions, outbursts of love and excitement. When summer came and Michael found out he had to leave for Iraq on August 22nd, I wrote him a letter telling him I would wait for him.
There was so much tension in the air, with Michael arguing with his mother and dealing with his dad's death. He was dealing with a lot.
On August 9th he called me up to invite me round and told me he was having a few people over. The night was normal, weird conversations, but Mike talked about suicide a lot that night. He was playing with his gun, weird stuff like that. Soon the boys left and it was Mike, my friend Jaci and I. Mike and I were drinking as usual; I don't remember much of the night, exept for him holding me. Then around 2am his mom was telling Jaci and I to leave. I was a bit tipsy and Mike was worried. He told Jaci to take care of me and that he would call me the next day.
Well August 10th, August 10th. I never got that call. Silly me called his friend Nick and asked if he wanted to come over with Mike because my dad was gone... Nick said he couldn't and he sounded weird. And then he asked me "You didn't find out did you?" and I replied "What?" and he said "Mike is dead."
Oh man, I thought he was kidding so I hung up. Nick kept calling my phone but I did not pick up. So I called Mike's house and his mom picked up the phone and told me there had been a great tragedy and that Michael had shot himself. I heard that and I screamed so loud, I couldn't handle myself.
Micheal's mother told me to drive over to her house and be with her. So I went over there. It was the most surreal moment in my entire life. This sunday will be his four months. I'm still coping. I'm still hurting.
And to top all of that, his best friend Peter told me that Mike was calling him for two weeks every single day telling Peter that he was going to kill himself. AND PETER DIDN'T EVEN COME OVER WHEN MIKE ASKED HIM TO COME.
And what's more, Peter, Mike's fucking best friend, told me he likes me and wants to kiss me, and that he dreams of Mike telling him it is okay for him to like me and have feelings for me. This has totally destroyed me. And now, my whole aspect on men has changed. Mike respected me enough not to have sex with me, and every guy I talk to now, all they want to do is get in my pants.
Micheal told his friends how much he cared for me and he could never harm me like that, that it had to be the right time and everything. He was the only guy who looked beyond my looks, he loved me. Myself. Who I was. So I'm left with nothing, and his mom tells me how she would have loved to have me as a daughter-in-law.
And for the first time in my life, I feel so empty, so fucking empty. I feel alone. Thank you for reading this. I hope all of you understand, and that if you find someone you're in love with, let it show through.
Love, Anonymous Me xxx
The Mookychick answer to your problem
Ashley says...
Background: I met Edison when I was a sophomore in high school, August 1996. He was a year ahead of me. He was 16. I was 14. I'd heard about him before because he was more well known than me. We met in French class, the last class of the day. He was the first guy who ever showed interest in me that I would consider. I used to walk home from school but he started driving me, along with some of his friends who became my friends, because my house was on the way. We also talked a ton, about everything, mostly music and school and people and parents. We were together almost 24/7. His friends and us would go downtown and walk around on Saturday nights and go listen to music and drink iced tea. On Sept. 28 he kissed me for the first time. On Oct. 1 he asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend. On Oct. 18, a Friday, the four of us were as usual going to go hang out downtown. We decided to stop by a state park first and take a walk. On the walk, his carkey fell out of his pocket. We started lighting things on fire to see if we could find it in the dark but eventually he gave up and decided to run to the ranger's station to use the phone and call his friend who had a spare key to his car. But a cop saw him and stopped him and made him call his parents. His mom came to escort us all back to our houses and because the cops were involved, we were all in trouble. He dropped me off and I was crying and I left without kissing him goodbye in the car, running up the driveway. He pealed out onto the street. I called him after we were all home, and it seemed like everything was better. But he was in trouble with his dad and said his dad had locked up his hunting guns. Then he said he had to get off the phone. The last thing he said to me was that he loved me. The next day he was supposed to pick us up to take us to the school for our SAT tests, but he didn't show up. I walked to school and didn't see any of our group. I took the test and walked home in the dusty hot wind, came in, thought about calling him a million times but didn't because my mom always told me never to call guys. That night one of our friends, Jacob called up, I thought, so we could all plan to go out that night. He asked me if I'd heard about Edison. I related the story about him getting in trouble. He said, you haven't heard? Edison killed himself. I thought he and Edison were playing a prank on me, so I hung up on him. I started to cry and my mom asked what happened and when I told her she called Jacob's house and started lecturing him for playing such a mean joke on me. Then she got quiet, and I knew that he really had killed himself. I screamed until I passed out on the kitchen tile. This was three days before my 15th birthday. Birthdays are still not something I look forward to celebrating, and it's been ten years.
Similarly to your situation, our friend said that Edison had been telling him he wanted to kill himself. Also similarly, he asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend soon after Edison died. This, in no uncertain terms, is fucked up.
You find yourself in a similar situation afterwards, it seems. No guys liked me until after Edison liked me. And after that, for the rest of my time in high school, that nearly defined my identity. The dead guy's girlfriend with a box of his lyrics and shirts and hats and notebooks his mom let me take.
The above is just to show you how much one event ten years ago mirrored your own. Just a series of totally normal circumstances, a diary entry that were it not for the last line would be totally banal.
But listen,you did show him that you loved him. No one will understand what happened. I'm not even going to say that one thing or another will work, because even I can't speak for you. For me, it took time, lots of time. It's still getting better but I know it never will. I have accepted that I will probably be grieving for him forever, because there are some things you just don't get over. It also helped for me to write it all out. I wrote out the anger, the sadness, the loneliness, the guilt, the depression, everything. I remembered the hell out of each of our minutes together until there was nothing left of them but scraps.
People will ultimately forget. You won't, but the noise in your head will get quieter from all this. Like the kid who gets pulled into fighting a war, know that this will make you much of who you are in the end. Love is not a poison thing. Whatever love you gave him only kept him on this earth longer. You must know that. And it will get better, but allow no one but yourself to decide that timetable.
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