MyLostStarGirl
New Here
I lost my best friend to suicide at the age of fourteen. I recieved her email at two in the morning, called the cops, but couldn't save her. I still seven years later say I couldn't save her. After going through years of therapy, hating her, loving her, hating her again, forgiving her, and my own suicide stint, which included a stay in a mental health ward. To this day I still have moments, long moments, where I believe without a shadow of a doubt I could have saved her. Maybe not that night, but surely before that. In the weeks and months, hell the years, leading up to that f*cking night. I believe it. My nightmares and imagination won't let me rest. I can't watch a movie that even hints at someone hanging without dissociating. I couldn't speak to my last therapist about her. I don't remember what happened exactly just screaming. My dad said I threw something. She is everywhere I look. Haunts my waking hours with dopplegangers and my sleep with night terrors. I am anger because if I am strong enough to go to that brink and find my way back why couldn't she? Yet I love her so much still because she was a light so bright the world is ten shades darker now that she is gone. I just want to find a way to live in a bright world again. A way to no longer place her in every memory she should have been in but couldn't. A way to continue breathing when I see someone my age that could have been her. A way to keep breathing without my Star Girl.