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I sip from my bottle staring at the empty screen and slowly feeling the effects of my alcoholic drink. I should be making new songs. I haven’t made nearly enough progress considering how close the deadline is getting. Only two more weeks and we have a band meeting and I’m supposed to show what I’ve created. But I can’t. My thoughts are going in circles. Death, it’s the only thing I can think of.
Fourth. That’s your number of the people died close to me in past this half of a year. You weren’t the closest person to me, but I still cared. I still want to see you again. But you’re gone. I’ll never see your bright smile again nor see crystal tears falling on your cheeks. I’d give anything to bring you back, even my own life. I’d do it to all the people I’ve lost.
You had so much to live for. You had everything a man could want, loving wife, wonderful three year old daughter, steady job, hobbies and many friends. And so did the others. All of you had your life in order and future ahead of you. And you wanted that future, you welcomed it with smiles on your faces.
And me? My life is endless suffering. I’ve wanted to kill myself many times. I don’t want to live. Why? Why not me? The one that doesn’t want this life, doesn’t want to be part of this fucked up world.
There still is some things that keeps me going. One is the sorrow that I saw today. That sorrow is crushing, bounding, unforgiving. I don’t want to bring that to people close to me. Even with the result of me living through that pain every single day.
This sounds so whining and stupid even in my own head. Why am I complaining when others have so much more problems in their lives. But I’m sick. It’s not anything you can see with bare eye. It’s in my head. I’m mentally sick. And it’s killing me slowly. Almost as slowly as cigarettes I smoke desperately to die faster. Yes, I started smoking to die faster. Sad, I know. But that’s true.
I break the lonely staring competition with my computer screen, I was doomed to lose it anyway. I make my way to the kitchen and crab another beer. I know I shouldn’t. It’s not going to fill the empty void I have in me. Nothing will fulfil it. And believe me I’ve tried.
Sigh escapes from my lips and I slowly make my way back to living room. It’s a mess. Why should I bother cleaning up? It’s not like I invite people over to enjoy my lovely company. I prefer keeping to myself. On the table besides dirty socks and magazines rises my old friend I try to avoid, a bottle of vodka. Half empty from my last breakdown. I stare at the mesmerizing bottle for a while trying to decide if I want to go down that road again. Last time I drank that poisonous beverage I ended up in hospital. It’s not actually the drinks fault, but somehow vodka makes me break every boundaries I have.
Everything I’ve experienced flows through my head and I decide against it. Really I should throw that poison down the drain, but I know I can’t do it. I like to have the option to lose my mind. Like the razor I keep in my wallet for a bad day. I haven’t cut in years, but it feels safer to have it with me.
I’m not going to get any progress with my work today either, the clock is ticking away on the background telling me I’m wasting my life. I fall on my worn down couch. Everyone who has had the pleasure of seeing it have told me to throw it away. But why bother? It’s not that bad or that’s what I think.
A sudden knock on my door wakes me from my musings. Checking the time I wonder who could it be, it’s past midnight. The second knock finally gets me moving to the door but I don’t open the door just yet. I have to prepare myself to whoever it may be by pulling my happy person mask on. I would never want to let others know that I’m not happy person or that I have problems. No-one in my band knows about my illness and that’s how I want to keep it. Couple deep breaths and I open the door with a smile.
I really didn’t have any assumptions who it might be disturbing my sad lonely night but seeing Takanori still surprised me. He smiles at me a little embarrassed.
“Hey. Sorry to bother you this late, but I really wanted to see you.” Takanori keeps smiling and shifts weight from foot to foot like he was expecting me to let him in and that was something I really didn’t want to do.
“It’s okay, but it’s really late so we should make this quick. What is it that you want?” I try to sound friendly but I can see from his face that I failed. Takanori seems a bit troubled and keen to get in.
“Ummm… Is there a possibility that we could talk inside?” There it was, the question I really didn’t want to say yes, but still I moved and let him walk to my gloomy apartment.
Takanori looked around clearly curious and then I realized he had never been at my place. It really wasn’t anything as fancy as his spacious apartment with modern art and carefully picked decorations. Mine was quite the opposite. I only had the necessary which meant couch, little table, old television, my working equipment and bed. I did have closet for my clothes but I really didn’t use it meaning everything in my apartment was covered with clothes dirty and clean. This was also a good reason not to invite people over.
After having a good look at everything in display Takanori turned to me as I was still standing at the door. Quickly I closed the door and glanced at my feet being my turn to be embarrassed.
“To be honest I didn’t expect to see this. I’ve always wondered what your place looked like and I had this picture of overly decorated apartment.” Takanori laughed at the end trying to make things a bit more light. I don’t think it’s necessary to say but it didn’t work.
“Tell me just why you are here at this hour I was just about to go to sleep.” I lied through my teeth and it was painfully obvious to both as my computer was on and I still had my day clothes on.
“Yeah right…” He breathed quietly. “Anyway, I’ll just get to the point. I’m worried about you. Usually as we’re creating new songs by ourselves you contact me at some point. To ask for an opinion, help or just to talk, now I haven’t heard from you for a month. And what I really want to say is... Are you all right?”
I stare at him for a while not answering anything, just trying to think something smart to say, because he was right. That was something I did every single time I was working on something new. Not being a surprise to anyone, I was a perfectionist and others opinions mattered a lot.
“I… I just have everything as I want and don’t really need help this time.” Again a lie. I waited if it was obvious to my shorter friend or not. I really didn’t want to tell him I didn’t have anything under work, just empty programs waiting for material. Instead I had dozen of empty beer bottles and full ashtrays.
“O-kay.”
After that we shared long unpleasant silence neither one knowing what to say. I just really wanted him out so I could continue my thoughts and maybe some more beer. Definitely more beer.
As I was still dreaming of my alcohol Takanori surprised me by hugging me tightly. “Sorry, I was just worried.”
We stayed like that, him hugging me and me just standing there, not hugging back. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening, I was fighting back my tears. I couldn’t show him how weak I was, how sad and lonely my life was. How I desperately needed someone else in my life. I couldn’t stop the tears escaping my eyes, I just prayed Takanori didn’t notice me crying. If I stayed completely still he wouldn’t notice? Everything was fine until a soft sob escaped my lips and Takanori shifted looking up.
“What’s wrong?`”
I refused to look at him so I stared straight ahead wishing everything would go away. Takanori, my feelings, sorrow, apartment, my life. Slowly a hand came to my cheek brushing under my right eye wiping the tears away.
“Hey Kouyou, I’m your friend. You can always talk to me if something’s wrong.” Takanori released me and took a step back to look at me more closely. I bet he could now notice my eye bags, tired eyes and sloppy appearance. “You really look like shit.”
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to have this conversation or be in this situation. I wished the small man I call my friend would just disappear and I could continue my lonely drinking. Takanori couldn’t help me, no-one could. And all kind of people had tried, doctors, friends and lovers. But that was long time ago. Now I didn’t want anyone to get too close to me. They would just get hurt. Or dead. The memory of my dead friends came back to me and I lost it. My legs gave away and I collapsed on the floor crying.
I just cried my eyes out. All the hopelessness came back to me, how I felt so small and insignificant, how I didn’t want to continue this endless night with my demons. I always tried to keep the tears away, it somehow was a weakness. But when others cried it was bold and good thing. I know I’m not very logical person.
Takanori kneeled next to me and patted slowly my back in comforting pattern. I don’t know how long we stayed there and frankly didn’t care. I just let all the feelings flood through me as a huge wave. I wanted to stop. I didn’t want to show Takanori me being this frail. All the band members saw me as a big brother and I didn’t want to break that image.
Minutes passed and we didn’t move. Slowly my tears faded away and sobs quieted down. I could feel in the air how Takanori tried to find the right words to say, to ask why I exploded like this. What in my life could be so horrible to make me this sad. I wanted to look at him, to see his face, to know what he was thinking. But I was too terrified what I might see. I don’t want see the disappointment. That what I was the most afraid of, disappointing my few friends. Through the years I had lost most of my friends I even had alienated my family.
Finally I lifted my head and looked Takanoris expression. And to be honest I was surprised, he was crying too. Why was he shedding tears? It didn’t make any sense. He stared at the wall refusing to look me in the eye, just quietly crying with me. After some time he looked at me and what I saw in his eyes was more than he could have ever said. Sadness, worry, care and something more I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“Why are you crying?” I managed to ask with a hoarse voice.
“I don’t’ know what happened to make you this sad, but it makes me hurt too”. Takanori stared right into my eyes and somehow it made me uncomfortable, like he could see everything I was trying to hide.
“But if it makes you feel better you can always tell me…” I could sense he was hoping I would open up to him, but that was something I could never do. It would be end of our relationship and theGazettE. He would make me go to doctors who I knew couldn’t do anything. I had tried all kind of therapies and medications, but nothing could make the pain go away. That made me realize, I already really had tried everything.
“Maybe someday I’m ready to tell you.” I took a deep breathe calming myself. “Now, was that all you wanted to talk about?”
Takanori looked really confused, at first I was crying on my floor and next talking like nothing happened. I could kind of understand him. I would be worried and confused too, but I just can’t tell him anything. He would know in time what I mean.
“Um.. I think that’s it, I was just wondering if you’re all right.”
“I will be, don’t worry about me. I just needed to vent my feelings” I tried to give him reassuring smile, but I don’t know if he believed it. At least Takanori didn’t say anything but got us both up from the floor and made his way to the door.
“Remember, you can always call me and I’ll listen if you have troubles.”
“If I had something major I would tell you right away.” I could tell he didn’t believe me, but smiled and left anyway. It was clear to both of us that something was definitely wrong with me, but maybe he just wanted to wait for me to open up to him. And I knew would happen soon because I had a plan that would make everything right again.
For the first time in a long time I was kind of happy. How come I had never realized this really was the right thing to do. I quickly went to my computer and started typing. It took me all rest of the night but in the morning I was ready with my text. I printed the text out and made my signature in the end. There was still a lot to do, but I had time. Almost two weeks.
The next days went by fast. I had a plan and I was making it happen. It felt good for once in my life I had a real direction. Something to reach for, I could say it made me happy to know I could achieve my goal. When everything else was done I sat before my computer guitar in my hands. It was time to make my song for our new record. For the rest of the days I perfected and poured my heart out in this one song. It had to be perfect and for once I didn’t have to call Takanori or anyone else to hear their opinions. This was my song and I wanted to make all on my own.
The song was ready as was everything else. Tomorrow we had the meeting with band and everything would be perfect. But tonight it was all for myself. I would do everything I ever wanted to do in the comfort of my own home. It was a shitty home, but it was all mine and I liked it here.
The same vodka bottle greeted my eyes on the table. I had cleaned up, but that one thing I didn’t throw away. With a smile on my face I took the ominous bottle and took a huge gulp. The alcohol burned a bit going down on my throat and I loved it. Second gulp didn’t burn as much but quickly I could feel the effect of the drink. I drank more and sat on my couch. I looked around my clean apartment with pride.
My table had the needed objects for tonight. My letter, vodka, plastic bag, duck tape, some of my old pills and a razor. Next these were some photos. My family, band, old friends and lovers. With all these people I made it this far but this was the end. I had fought my way this far but I couldn’t make it further. I smiled at the photos at took the razor.
For a moment I just stared at the blade. So long I had resisted the temptation to do anything with it and for what? It helped, it made me feel good. I know most people don’t understand it, but it really was something I loved.
I was only wearing my boxer shorts for the easy access on my inner thighs. Many wonder why I stopped wearing those short shorts and the answer was simple, I had started cutting. I used to regret it but not anymore. Sure it got me in all kind of trouble but it was my way make through the day.
It had been years since the last time but when I pressed the razor against my thigh it felt like yesterday. Slowly I pressed harder and dragged the blade cross my flesh. The feeling was stunning, addictive and even better than I remembered. I let my hand fall on the couch for a moment just to feel the moment. The rush going through my veins, wonderful feeling flooding all over. I knew I couldn’t wait too long and with that though I made quickly two deeper wounds. Blood started to flow and stained the old couch ruining it for good.
I had my moment of joy but all fun had to come to an end. I took all the pills I had left, all expired but that didn’t bother me the least. All it could mean they turned to poison in my system but that would be even better, finally taking them all at once and drowning them down with vodka. And with a final gulp taking the rest of the alcohol feeling the buzz.
The next step was a little harder. I took the plastic bag and taped it around my neck. I should have about half an hour until I suffocated. With determination I pressed the razor on my left wrist. I used to be scared cutting somewhere someone could see but now it didn’t matter. I had to do this right on one go. Slicing along my wrist I made three deep wounds.
I was done. Now I just had to wait. I stared down my wrist through the bag seeing the layers of my skin and tissue. The cuts really made my wrist look big as they let the skin be loose. All three cuts were at least couple centimeters wide letting the blood flow freely from my body.
My vision started to fade and I couldn’t continue watching my blood so I just gave up and closed my eyes. I could feel my heartbeat on my wounds, it felt wonderful. At first it sped up as my body tried to keep up with the changes but soon it started to steadily slow down.
I don’t know how long I had sat there but in my mind came doubt. What if this wasn’t working? What if I failed and ended up paralyzed for the rest of my life? I couldn’t play guitar, couldn’t live normal life. Panic filled my drugged and drunk mind. Until now I was sure this was the right answer but what if I was wrong? I still could turn my life around. Be a happy person, find the one for me.
Then I remembered Takanori. How he was crying because of my pain. And the one feeling in his eyes I couldn’t figure out. Now I knew. It was love. I don’t know if it was love for a friend or a lover, but still. I’m certain it was love for me. I didn’t want to die. I want to talk to Takanori. What ever feelings he had for me were worth keep going. And the pain I felt at my friends funeral, I didn’t want to cause it to anyone else. To my family, to my friends. There was so much worth fighting for. And somehow I had forgotten that until now.
Weakly I tried to lift my uncut arm, but I was too weak. Then I started to feel the bag closing on me. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to die. My consciousness started slowly started to fade away. I had made the wrong choice.
Then I heard it. A knock somewhere far away. Or close, I couldn’t tell.
“Kouyou!”
It was at the door. I was sure.
“Kouyou open the door! It’s me, Takanori.”
Takanori was here. He would save me. I still have a chance to make it right.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re ok, but we’ll see tomorrow, right?”
Just break the damn door down, please. Save me from this mess.
“It’s ok, you clearly don’t want to talk or you’re not even home and I’m just yelling at an empty apartment. See you tomorrow.”
No… Don’t leave. Please.
“I just miss you that’s all. We all do.”
You can’t leave me.
...this wasn’t the right answer after all. I don’t want to leave you.