*I’m sure most of the other posts can be considered triggering as well but this one may be especially for some*

Bryan used to periodically send me “life checks”. At least once a week because when I would get overly stressed, I would stop responding to his, and everyone else’s, text messages. It’s a sweet gesture that he approaches in a lighthearted and teasing manner; threatening that swat teams are about to break down the walls of my home if I don’t respond within the given time frame.

On April 8, 2016 I attempted suicide.

I called Nina out of respect for our years of friendship and appreciation for her allowing me to lean on her for so many years. I also texted Michael an apology before swallowing my Vicodin prescription whole, spending my last moments in tears while Michael drunkenly read my favorite book, Slaughterhouse Five, to me until I lost consciousness.

Hours later, when I came to, feeling sicker than ever before, I checked my phone for the time and noticed Bryan had sent out his signature “life checks” mere hours after I entered my comatose state. My heart sunk at the irony and I guiltily responded that I was okay.

He drove three hours down to visit me for my 19th birthday, a date I never dreamt I’d see. On a still and sticky July afternoon, he broke the silence informing me he considered me to be one of his best friends.

It never occurred to me that he held me at such a status. I didn’t know he cared that much.

He hadn’t a clue what occurred that day.


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