If you haven’t yet read the first parts of the story, I’d recommend you to start with those before moving on to this one. Below are links to the previous parts.
Part Five: Our Last Meeting
I waited and waited, but the turning point never came. Simon didn’t get better, and he knew he wasn’t going to. So he decided to do it, once and for all: tonight he was gonna suicide.
He told me about it, of course. I had stopped him before, and I considered doing the same this time too. But something told me I wasn’t. I wasn’t gonna stop him this time. After all, it was his life. And I was not the one to decide what to do with it. Besides, I couldn’t take it anymore. I just couldn’t. Instead I prayed for God to watch over him, and to meet him in Heaven if he was to do it. I knew Simon had a heart of gold, there had to be a place for him up there. So I tried to comfort myself with that.
Still that night I woke up several times. Every time thinking: “Has he done it yet? What time is it?” It was impossible to know, though. Simon weren’t exactly the kind of person that slept at night. He could stay awake all night through if he pleased. Instead I checked Facebook when I woke up to see how long it had been since he was online. A few hours. By every time I checked, even more hours had been added to the inactivity. Three hours turned to six hours, eight hours, twelve hours… But no, nothing. I couldn’t believe it. He was dead. Simon was gone.
It was such a weird day. I did my best to be nice against all the customers whereas my mind was focusing on figuring out a good way to tell his friends that Simon had suicided, and that I had known about it. And was I gonna tell them first or should I go to the place where I knew he’d be and call the police first? What if somebody else would discover the body before me? No, poor human! I should go and find him. That way I could also make sure he was actually dead.
But I knew he was dead. Just the fact that Simon always answered his texts, and now he didn’t, spoke for it. And if he was asleep, he’d only sleep for three hours maximum. Now he hadn’t been online for 14 hours. This was it. For some reason I felt like giving him a call when I got home before I set off to look for him. (I guess there still was some hope left in me that thought he’d might pick up.) No answer. I called a second time just to be absolutely sure. “Hello?” I couldn’t believe it; IT WAS SIMON!
I have never experienced a phone call as peculiar as this one before. I explained to him that I wanted to check in on him to see if he was dead or not and he told me he’d done it. He DID suicide last night. He just woke up from the sound of his cell ringing. He was in his room, at home, safe. But he had no idea how he’d got there, especially not since nobody but me knew about his plans. Nor did he know how he could ever be alive. Nothing made any sense.
That took a while to sink, for both of us. I was happy I wouldn’t need to go and look for a body that afternoon, though. There were no words to describe the relief when Simon picked up the phone. It was crazy.
Simon seemed to feel pretty okay too, which was unusual. But I was glad for him. Of course, not even this lasted very long. About one week after this incident, Simon had got off the phone with his uncle in Iran. I was to find out what he’d had to say to Simon the very next afternoon.
The wind was warm and the sun was shining when I met Simon for the last time, of course by then, I didn’t know this was gonna be the last time I saw him. This afternoon, we met in another park, near by a lake. As I found out, Simon had been there since last night. He hadn’t been able to sleep because of the news. Instead, he had gone to the park, just sitting staring, but out in the blue for a change.
“So, my uncle called me yesterday”, he started. “Told me that my parents died in Afghanistan when I was a baby. *break* My “parents” aren’t even my real parents. *break* I don’t have any parents!” Then he broke into tears. “There is always something waiting for me, Lissy”, he cried. For the first time since he’d started to tell me that, I could actually believe him. How was it even possible? How could there even be more things to burden this kid with? His life was such a joke.
I tried to comfort him, but it was absurd. After spending as much time with Simon as I had recently, I understood why he wanted to kill himself. I mean, come on! He had no family, no close friends, he was lonely, he couldn’t sleep, he had stopped eating, the depression was killing him and now he had just found out that his parents had been lying to him his entire life. Yeah I know, now I sounded just like Simon. I’m sorry, but I guess that’s because I now was just as sick of Simons life as he was. It was time to face it – I couldn’t help him. No one could! Of course I didn’t want to believe it, not when God had come into his life and everything, that Simon could really be a left over. But seriously, he would never get better. If anything, he would get worse – and so would I. This had to reach an end.
But how could I ever end it? If I’d leave him, he’d literally have nobody. Plus, he was an amazing guy. He really didn’t deserve this crappy life! I suppose that was what made me choose to stay and give him a hug, instead of getting up and walk away. Also, I had learned a few things since I first met Simon. One: talking made him feel better, Two: talking about things beyond suicide and depression made him even happier. I didn’t feel like talking about heavy things anymore, it was too hard, so instead we ended up talking about pottery and carving, since Simon just told me he used to make sculptures in Iran. Incredible… I was sure I knew everything about him already, but there were so many more impressive things about him that I didn’t know.
I really liked Simon, I did. After all this time, he was like a brother to me, but actually I was afraid I liked him more than so. Perhaps you remember that the first time we met, I told Simon I was interested in somebody else to avoid future complications if he for any reason would develop feelings for me? Well, he had. Since a few weeks back, he had been talking about this wonderful girl he’d met, that he’d never felt anything like this before but he could never have her because she would never love him back. I was the only girl his age that he was in touch with during this time, so let’s just say I kinda assumed it was me.
If Simon and I hadn’t had the relationship that we had, this would be a dream scenario. A guy likes me, I might like him back… Of course I’d give it a try! But this wasn’t just “a guy”; this was Simon. If things wouldn’t work out, I could never hurt him like that, ever. So I decided it was better to stay his friend. At least then I wouldn’t be able to hurt him.
Wrong. If you have not heard about irony before, this is what they call irony, Beautifuls:
When I got home that night, Simon had sent me a text confessing all his feelings for me and telling me that it was too hard for him to see me. He couldn’t do that if he knew we’d only be friends and nothing more. So, have I got this right? I chose to stay his friend in order to avoid hurting him when in fact I ended up hurting him more? Yep, that’s how it was. Then he blocked my number.
I don’t know if it was Simon or if it was God who saw how much this was tearing on me, but he let me out of it. I didn’t see Simon again. I can’t say whether he still lives in the city or not, or if he’s alive even. For all I know, he may have gone through with his “plan” and moved on to a different life, reunited with his real parents and you know, living a life without depression.
I wouldn’t know. Honestly, I stopped caring. Don’t get me wrong, Simon still means a lot to me and I pray for him every day. But I have left him in the hands of God now. And I gotta say: I’ve never been better. ♥︎