Nothing Left to Do

I strive to always be available to my friends. If they really need me for anything, they can just call, send me a text, or just come over. I love to listen and I try to give good advice when I'm able. If nothing else I'm good for a hug and some company.

On the other hand, I expect the same in return. I expect that if I give up my time and energy—and emotional stability—to help you, you can do the same for me when I need it. It's unfortunate that sometimes this give-take facet of a relationship (called "friendship," by the way) ends up being give, give, give. One person cannot be the only one working in a relationship if you want the relationship to survive. Can't. It just doesn't work that way.

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Recently, I found myself in a poor situation. My then-best friend was having a rough time with his own life—trying to maintain his academics (which is a terribly stressful activity at Westminster Choir College), trying to maintain friendly relationships with those around him, and making a solid concerted effort to dispel a negative atmosphere people had created over one mistake.

Through it all, I tried to be the best friend. I defended him to others when he wasn't around. I encouraged his endeavors into building other friendships. I tried so hard to get him and those around him to do the right thing. I ensured him that though he had made mistakes, he wasn't a bad person because of them, that his feelings aren't wrong, that he could make it through it all, that no one hates him for anything, that I'd always be there for him if he needed to talk or cry or anything at all.

I did everything I could to try to be the best friend. I wanted to be the one he could go to if he needed to talk or just wanted to hang out. I wanted to be the one he could tell anything to without risk of judgment.

Apparently whatever I did wasn't enough. We are no longer best friends. He can't talk to me. He won't listen to me. He thinks I've changed my view of him as a person somewhere in the mix of things. He doesn't honestly like me as a person enough to ever hang out with me. Not to mention he directly stated that he no longer considers me his best friend.

I can tell when he needs help or a talk, but I know that I'm always the secondary or even tertiary friend in those situations. He has never come to me to talk. I always have to force myself in.

Perhaps in dealing with his other issues he forgets or puts aside our friendship, but that's not okay to me. Being second in priority to other people is not okay. I would gladly be second to his emotional or physical health, but that's not what it is.


And I'm done. I'm done trying. I'm done with being available to him. I'm done putting in so much effort that never has any returns. I'm done being an outlying figure he titled "best friend." I give up. I'm obviously not good enough to be there anyway. There is nothing else I can do.

The One Thing My Friends Can't Say

I am extremely liberal. I honestly don't care what people say or do as long as they don't hurt others intentionally or infringe on others' ability to say or do what they want.

Go get drunk.
Go fuck the entire cheer squad.
Go smoke weed and meander around campus high as a bird.
Tell me about all of it.

It's cool. Have fun. Do what you want; it's your life.

This is true in all cases but one. The one sole statement I can't ever deal with hearing from my friends, the one thing that will immediately change my mood to angry and depressed is "I'm gonna kill myself."

I don't care if they're joking. I don't care if it was just a statement in passing. I don't care how many times they say "I don't really mean it! I'm just kidding!"

Fuck you. DO NOT JOKE ABOUT KILLING YOURSELF. EVER.

I have had so many friends who have called me in the middle of the night to tell me they were about to drive to the nearest bridge, to tell me they wanted to die right then, that they hate their life and they hate feeling helpless and they hate being alone and they feel like no one loves them and no one cares and that no one would be there for them and that no one would care if they just died right then.

And every time I got a call and I heard the sobbing, frantic, or just apathetic voice I dipped into that feeling of loneliness, of helplessness. I couldn't help them. I didn't know what to do to help them. They weren't always best friends...they occasionally were acquaintances who just felt like they could talk to me. But all the same, my love for life and living made it so difficult to deal with the idea of someone I know ending his life--oddly enough, all of the calls were from guys. I just had to listen and talk to them. Calm them down and try my damnedest to reaffirm their appreciation of life.

So now, whenever someone I know, particularly when they are personally close to me, says that they are going to commit suicide, that they wish they were dead, that they're going to jump off a building, or slit their wrists, all of these emotions and feelings of helplessness, all the sleepless nights and teary conversations, all the fear of what might happen between when I hung up and when I saw them next, come flooding back to me full force. I go to bed and I worry. I can't even contemplate what I would do if someone ever said it and then went through with it. It's unthinkable.

I again state, DO NOT JOKE ABOUT KILLING YOURSELF.

It's stupid. It hurts. It's not funny.