elsk eller selvmord.

Today I was sitting in spanish, I thought it was a day like any other. The bell is delayed and there's an announcement asking for a counselor to report to the big gym. I thought that was little odd, but whatever, maybe nothing's going on. The bell finally rings and we do whatever we normally do. A girl that had gym that period was telling her boyfriend what happened, and I was right next to them, I overheard. I heard "...*mumble mumble* went into the washroom and swallowed a bunch of chemicals *mumble mumble*" Obviously this girl didn't accidentally leave class and swallow a bunch of chemicals. I think anyone in the world would know this girl was attempting suicide.

I was thinking about her all day. I was fascinated. No one can tell us who she is. I don't know who this girl is, I might, but I don't know if she's someone I know. I just want to know who it is. I want to spend time with her. I want to have conversations with her. I want to get into the deep crevices of her mind and try and figure her out. Know her thoughts and the way her mind works and her passions and her pains and those things that often people never know. I want to know the "secret" part of her.

It also made me despise suicide so much. And my heart broke for her. I remember what it's like to have those thoughts of "it'd be better to be dead right now, that's how much it hurts" and I would consider taking my life. But never would I ever go through with it. I could NEVER go through with it. No matter what. Yeah, it'd make people respect you and love you, and if they already did, stop keeping it quiet, but you'd have a great chance of not making it out alive. How could anyone be hurting to the extent they'd rather be DEAD? Why does human kind allow people to get that broken? Why did no one ever reach out to this girl, and ask her how she was, and actually care about her? And show her their love and care and everything else? Why is human kind so selfish? Like, hey, that girl's broken. She's hurting. Whatever, I have plans.

My heart breaks for this girl. I want to show her how much she is loved. Show her how incredible life is. Show her what she would be missing. Show her how incredible life can be. I believe I was made with a purpose. I think God made me with this hatred for suicide, and this passion for prevention, for this girl. To show her these things, to understand her. I wish I knew who she was. It drives me INSANE that I don't know. I wish I could be one of those people that just doesn't care, one of those selfish people. But I'm not, and I would be eternally guilty if i pretended to be.

It's times like these I know I'm cut out for psychology.