Okay so imagine this, you wake up one day after just having a pretty cool night. You hung out with some friends, watched a few movies. It was a great time… until you checked your phone that morning. A close friend of yours messaged you so you go to see what he wants. Ts not him, it’s his parents, letting you know he killed himself. Your friend committed suicide, but that’s not all, nobody else knows it is your fault. That is my story.
A few weeks ago I made a pretty good friend; we would stay up all night texting. I was in a bad spot at the time, I was an emotional wreck, but so was he. We kept each other sane, we became extremely close. Then one day I started to become better, I wasn't so emotional, yet he still was. I tried to help him, but it felt like he was just dragging me down. I knew I had to cut it off. He was suicidal now and he was cutting himself, something I was still trying to quit. I couldn't handle him anymore. I couldn't keep him sane.
I finally just cut him off. He would nonstop text me, begging me to answer. Well I didn't answer. He had nobody anymore. He killed himself. I have to think about this every day of my entire life. There isn't a day I don’t think of him. It’s my fault he’s dead. I killed him and I am so sorry. I thought to write it and let people know what I have done would help. I’m sinking in my depression again, and I know if he was still alive he would help me, but I never helped him. I’m sorry.